


Begettng Day

by Bethann, Minniemoggie



Series: Legendary Friendship [19]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Comfort/Angst, Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, Illustrated, Light Angst, Misunderstandings, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-11 13:37:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2070240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bethann/pseuds/Bethann, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minniemoggie/pseuds/Minniemoggie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Legolas' begetting day is only few days after Gimli's birthday.  Gimli wishes to surprise him, but keeping secrets can cause misunderstandings, hurt feelings and chaos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the notes at the beginning of this series to understand our alternate universe. We have a few a/u elements that must be accepted for our stories to make sense. This is a direct sequel to "Birthday Surprise". We hope you enjoy it, and if you do we'd love to hear from you! 
> 
> Fun fact: We have made Legolas' begetting day the same date as Minnie's birthday since she writes his point of view and Gimli's birthday the same as Beth's birthday for the same reason. Our birth dates really are less than a week apart, so that's how these guys' special days are so close together.

I give the ornate wood trim one final polish with the soft cloth in my hand before standing back to admire our work. Gaearon steps back next to me and smiles in satisfaction as well, for now the sleigh we have been working on transforming is perfectly complete and ready to be presented as a gift.. All there is left to do is wait a few more days until the time is right. We only take a moment or two to enjoy the moment though for Forodren has only promised us a very limited time to work without risking being discovered. I asked him to distract Legolas for us, so we could put the final touches on our project, but one hour was all he could guarantee considering the impetuous, flighty nature of his Lord. He did not use those exact words of course. “Spontaneous,” I believe he said, but I knew what he meant. We would have to work fast. Fortunately Gaearon has proved to be a quick learner and a hard worker, so we’re finished in record time.

We step back out into the crisp cold sunshine and I padlock the door once again. I am already back in the house and setting up a project in my new workroom before my elfling even realizes I have left the house. I am a little surprised to see him since I had assumed he would already have found his way outside by now considering the clear weather.

“You were up and about early, Elvellon,” he says, greeting me with a kiss on the cheek. Normally I go through to his bedchamber first thing in the morning, but today I needed to get an early start in order to give myself as much time with the sleigh as possible. This means I am seeing him for the first time this morning. He notices that I am setting out wax for casting jewelry and steps in closer to inspect what it is that I am doing. I scoop the gold and gemstones into my hand and place them quickly back in the divided box meant for such things and slam the lid down before he can see them. I do not wish him to see since I do not want him to know my first project in the new room is to work on a begetting day gift, though I see now that I will have to be more careful of his whereabouts after this.

“What are you working on?” he asks me.

“Just breaking in this wonderful new room,” I tell him. It is a truthful answer, though admittedly a little vague.

“Do you need any help?” Now that is a question I was not expecting, though I suppose I should not be surprised. We spent very little time together last week because of my working in the forge and Legolas being confined to the house, though as it turned out he was quite pleased to have an excuse to remain indoors, the sneaky brat. But sneaky for very thoughtful and noble purpose so I have forgiven him as I hope he will forgive me once he finds out the reasons for my strange actions. For now I have to struggle to come up with an answer.

“Nay, Lamb, there is no need. I am sure ye’d rather spend the day outdoors now that the weather has cleared for a little while. Besides Gaearon was asking to help me. He’s anxious for the chance to watch me work with precious metals.

“Oh,” is his rather deflated answer, and I can see pulling this surprise off could end up being rather difficult. Still I am determined to do it so I carry on with the pretense. I only hope he doesn’t think to ask about the sleigh.

“In that case couldn’t I take the sleigh out? It has been repaired hasn’t it?”

Well there goes that hope up in smoke. Durin’s Anvil but this is getting tricky! Still I must not hesitate to answer lest he grow suspicious.

“Aye it has been repaired, and no ye may not take it out.” I state, sounding much more sure of myself that I feel

“Why not?” he demands.

“I would like it to stay in one piece for a day or two Elfling.” I say, trying to sound stern.

“I will be careful with it, Gimli. It will not get damaged.”

“Indeed it will not, for you will leave it be. I will let ye know when you may take it out and we will not mention it again before then.”

I hope my tone is sufficient to prevent any further mention of the sleigh, though I suspect Legolas is beginning to think I am being completely unreasonable. I am of course, but I have to keep him away from the shed somehow. I can only hope he will understand my actions and forgive me once everything has come to light. The next few days may be difficult, but it should be well worth it in the end, though I may have to alleviate some concerns before all is said and done, something that is borne out to me by his next question.

“Are you angry with me Elvellon? Have I done something wrong?” he asks and I can see he is trying to recall any forgotten misdeeds that I might have discovered. I hurry to try to alleviate his worries.

“Nay, Lamb, nothing like that,” I reassure him.

“Then I don’t see why I can’t take…”

“Let’s go seek our Master Forodren,” I interrupt before he can finish his sentence. “ I believe he may need your help with a few things since I will be keeping Gaearon busy working with me today.”

Of course his sense of duty overtakes his own personal desires and he nods and follows me out to the stables. I had counted on that. Master Forodren is waiting for us, having already been told that he should accept this offer of help to keep the lad distracted and busy. Not that he minded the extra hands, for my elfling is as skilled as anyone when it comes to working with those four legged beasties and isn’t afraid of hard work the way some of his status might be.

Forodren greets us pleasantly enough and then to my great relief begins to talk of his plans for the day and before long the two of them are thick as thieves discussing the best way to go about things. I am able to slip away and find my way back to my workroom where young Gaearon is already waiting for me.

I am happy to see how eager my new apprentice is to learn all ways of working with metal. He shows interest in every aspect of my work and has so far been keen to try anything. Today I fish the small gems that I had hidden away earlier and place them on the table to show to Gaearon.

There are some gems I brought with me from Aglarond that had broken from the walls of one of the deepest caverns there. Only broken off bits or tiny fractions that had to be chipped away to show the caves in its most spectacular form were ever removed from there, for it was my goal to leave the place in its most natural state possible, rather than to greedily rape the area of all of its precious gems just for the monetary value. Still I had a good-sized collection of gems, most of which were given to my nephew, but a few of which I packed away to bring along with me.

I had no idea if such things could be easily come by here on Aman. However I was pleased to find some caverns on the south side of the property and though I haven’t taken the time to explore them thoroughly, I was able to find an interesting stone that I recognized immediately as Chrome Tourmaline, something that is very rare and valuable in Middle Earth. It is so rare in fact that most of my experience with it is from seeing the drawings and information about them in books. I have only seen a couple of real examples of them in my entire life and those were very small and set in the crown worn by King Dain II Ironfoot, who died at the very gates of Erebor. I assume the crown was passed to his son, but I personally never did see him wear it since he preferred to be seen in a simple circlet of silver and mithril. I have never seen, nor heard of such a stone that was more than one carat in size, but this one that I’ve found will end up being a full carat and a half when all is said and done, unless I miss my mark completely.

Perhaps such stones are abundant here, but I was overjoyed to find such a specimen right on our own land, though I put it away without mentioning it to anyone for I hoped to cut it and fashion it into a surprise gift for my favorite elf. Of course we have been very busy, even during the winter months so I just haven’t had the opportunity until now. My new workroom, and Legolas’ upcoming begetting day are just the reasons I needed to get started, though to get it finished in time I will have to work fast. Gaearon, of course is more than willing to help, though this is something of a one-person job. Still he is anxious to watch and learn, so I begin by taking out a small bit of wax and with the help of delicate tools, begin to shape it into a mold in the shape of a tiny curled elm leaf. The deep forest green Chrome Tourmaline will be set in the center of the gold leaf once it is cut and polished. I add as much detail as I can manage on such a small item for such an exquisite stone needs to be set off appropriately and also, I have to admit, to show off a bit to my fascinated apprentice.

“What will it be when you are finished with it? A pin?” he asks.

“I’m thinking to attach it to a clasp that can be worn on a lapel or attached to a braid,” I tell him, before gesturing him to sit at the table across from me. “Here, Lad, would you like to try it?”

I show him how to melt the wax and to form it into a mold. Of course it is a more simple design than the one I was working on, but he is surprisingly deft at it for a first try. I had not intended to spend the entire day working on this project, but Gaearon is so keen to learn more that I decide to begin cutting the rough gemstones, so after a short midday break, we continue on. I am pleased with the progress we are making, and only look up when there is a slight rattling of the door. That will be Legolas looking for me of course. Thank goodness I thought to install proper locks or my secret might have been discovered. A knock sounds, and Gaearon and I quickly put everything away before blowing out the lamps and opening the door just enough to slip through and then closing it behind us. It will not do to have curious elflings snooping around my things and figuring out my secrets before the time is right.

Gaearon bows his head slightly to Legolas in greeting and then turns to me.

“Thank you for the lesson, Elvellon,” he smiles, “I very much enjoyed the day.”

“It was my pleasure, Lad. Ye’ll be a master metal worker and jeweler before ye know it,” I tell him with a wink. His smile broadens with pleasure at this praise and he takes himself off, leaving me alone with my charge who looks just a little unhappy.

“What is amiss, Child?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he insists frowning further. “What were you two working on in there?”

“Not a thing ye’d be interested in, Lamb,” I say, grasping for some way to change the topic. “Something smells good. No doubt Mistress Glasiel has outdone herself again. We mustn’t keep her waiting, Lad. Come.”

 

XXX

Yesterday was so perfect… at least I thought it was. Now I am not so sure. Gimli gave every indication that he was happy with his birthday celebrations but if he was so happy, why do I feel as I do?

I stare out into the darkening sky. It is only early afternoon but grey clouds are gathering and it looks as if we shall have more snow very soon.  
My thoughts are as gloomy as the sky. I am sitting in my bedchamber having come up here to think. My father would say I have come up here to sulk but it is not so. I just do not know what is going on.

Gimli seems to have gone out of his way today to keep me at arm’s length and to spend as much time as possible with his new protégée, Gaearon, and I do not know why.

I do not wish to think of the reasons behind Gimli’s desertion but I cannot fail to wonder if my presence is no longer necessary for his happiness. Perhaps now that he has his new workroom and the interest of Gaearon in his craft, I am not needed.  
I have never pretended to understand the ins and outs of jewelry and ironwork. I realize I do not have the requisite expertise for working with metal and precious stones. I like to design things but the practical skill for manipulating and enhancing such entities are beyond my limited abilities.

It has never been an issue between us before. Gimli has always laughed at my ineptitude and encouraged me in anything I tried to do even if the outcomes were nowhere near perfect, but now it seems it has changed.

Gimli has spent much of today in his new workroom and I have not been the elf he has wished to have at his side.

Rather he has spent all his time with his new apprentice Gaearon who has all the right attributes for working with jewels and fine metal work and seems happy to have been so.

I am angry, hurt and confused. How can my world have turned upside down so quickly?  
I think back to all that has happened so far today while my eyes go back to the sky outside and the first snowflakes falling into the darkening sky.

 

When I woke this morning Gimli had already left his bedchamber but when I asked for his whereabouts I got the distinct impression that no one seemed to want to tell me, so I went in search of him myself.

He was not outside, although I could see that he had been to the forge and the barn for there were his footprints in the snow alongside the much lighter prints of an elf. From the size of the boot I would conjecture that his companion would be Gaearon.

I scowled at this sign of the closeness, for it seemed to me that Gimli increasingly preferred Gaearon’s company to my own when he was engaged in work in the forge.  
Of course I told myself that Gaearon is learning a trade, and he seems to have a natural aptitude for the work but I also recalled that while I have little skill in metalworking I have never found myself excluded as I was now.

My stomach twisted in knots at this apparent ‘desertion’ and I had to take myself firmly in hand and tell myself I was being foolish in the extreme and that I should never question Gimli’s love and affection for me, for had he not given up everything to travel to the undying land to support me?

It is unfortunate that my good intentions over this matter took another blow when I got back inside and asked for Gimli’s whereabouts. He was of course in his workroom and rather than welcome me in it seemed as if he could not wait to be rid of me.  
He even hid what he was working on so I could not see it.

When I asked what it was he told me it would be of no interest to me.  
Thinking it would be nice to spend time with him I asked if he needed any help, but he brushed aside my offer telling me that my presence was not necessary as Gaearon would be coming to assist him as he wished to learn some of the finer metal and jewel working skills.

I could think of no better response to that news than “Oh!” for that only seemed to confirm my earlier dismal thoughts about exclusion.

Worse was to come however. Since I was not wanted I asked instead for permission to take out the newly repaired sleigh, for the winter weather had relented briefly and the sun was out so it was a perfect day for a drive.

But Gimli flat out refused to give me that permission.

Angry at the refusal I demanded to know why not and was told that he wanted it to stay in one piece for longer than a day. Now that sort of comment was a direct slur on my driving skills and unfair even if I did cause the damage of a few days ago! I am not usually so careless and so I told him

It made no difference. He was adamant that the sleigh was to remain where it was and he added to that stricture the fact that he did not wish to discuss the topic with me again.

I began to think that perhaps I had done something to upset or annoy him but when I ventured to ask if that was the case Gimli said it was not so. Instead he suggested that if I needed ‘to get out’ we should go out to see Forodren as he would likely need help with the horses and stock.

I got the distinct impression that I was being handed over to Forodren for the explicit purpose of getting me out of Gimli’s way, as if I was a burden all of a sudden and not welcome. That thought hurt more than any other.

Still I went out with Gimli but only because there was little choice but to do so and, very conveniently it seemed to me, Forodren had plenty of work for me to help out with. On any other day our head groom would have refused to let me clear out stalls and carry feed, considering it being ‘beneath my station.’ Today he seemed happy to keep me occupied for as long as he could.

Eventually, however, even Forodren ran out of reasons for keeping me outside and I hurried back to the house, determined to speak with Gimli and find out what was wrong between us.

Once again when I reached the kitchens I was informed that Gimli would be found in his workroom but when I went to open the door to enter I found it to be locked.

I could hear Gimli and Gaearon laughing and talking together and felt so disregarded, I wanted to shout out that if it was not for me the work room would not have come into being but of course that would have sounded selfish and self-centered and that would never do, so I waited for them to open the door but instead of being invited in they came out and closed the door firmly behind them.

Gaearon bowed his head slightly to me in greeting and then turned to Gimli saying “Thank you for the lesson, Elvellon, I very much enjoyed the day.”

His use of the word ‘Elvellon’ made me want to shout ‘that is my name for Gimli no one else’s’ I felt the bile rise in my throat as Gimli answered, “It was my pleasure, Lad. Ye’ll be a master metal worker and jeweler before ye know it.”

Such praise has never been given to me and I found myself glowering as Gaearon made off through the laundry.

Gimli wanted to know what was amiss with me, but rather than answer I merely growled ‘nothing’. Instead I ask what they had been working on in an attempt to show interest and again I was put off and encouraged to follow him off to the kitchen for noon meal.

I found I had little appetite, and the happy chatter of the household held little interest for me, especially when every topic of conversation seemed designed to show how apt a student Gaearon was proving to be.

Since it was plain that my presence was superfluous, I excused myself and announced I was going to spend the afternoon working on my own affairs and that I did not wish to be disturbed.

It was petty and childish but I felt some sense of satisfaction at Gimli’s puzzled expression. I rather hoped he might follow me and demand to know what I was about but he did not, so I still sit watching the snow fall and feeling decidedly miserable and alone.

 

And now it seems as if the Valar wish to add to my misery for from out of the corner of my eye I see a horse and rider coming into the inner courtyard, and as the rider pushes back his hood I see who it is who has arrived. Tàras!

Now, I know I am supposed to have forgiven Tàras for his conduct while the house was being built. Indeed Gimli insisted upon me giving Tàras my forgiveness but I admit to still holding some resentment for the idiot who almost cost my dwarf his life. Mainly because, Gimli, rather than throwing Tàras out, had chosen to take him under his wing and begin his education and training in engineering and design.

I suppose I felt some small amount of jealousy for the attention lavished on him. Well I know I did, but of course I was supposed to set a good example and not be envious of Tàras’ new place in Gimli’s affections.

But to see him here, now today, when I am already feeling excluded from Gimli’s regard well it is the last thing I need.

A knock sounds and Canthui enters to tell me of my visitor. I have to bite my lip to prevent myself denying him entrance, but good manners mean that instead I ask for him to be shown into the sitting room and that Lord Gimli be made aware of his arrival. Perhaps the arrival of his other protégée might draw him away from his workroom for a while.

Tàras tells me that he had been to New Imladris this morning and heard that it was Gimli’s begetting day and felt he had to ride over to offer his belated but heart felt felicitations.

I take some pleasure in pointing out that we had not celebrated a begetting day but a birthday and he flushes uncomfortably for he likely knows I have not yet really forgiven him for his prejudice against my friend. But just as I am about to add more fuel to his discomfort Gimli enters and welcomes him like a long lost son.

“Tàras, lad, what brings you here on such a day? You should have more care of yourself you know.”

Tàras answers that he had not expected the snow and had only wanted to wish his dear friend a ‘Happy Birthday’. He glances at me when he says this and I wish I had not told him of the difference now for it makes it look as if he knows what he is about.

Still I get my own back by commenting that surely as someone who has lived on the island all of his life he knew that the weather would turn.  
“Hwiniol told me this morning that it is quite common for this to happen and that the clouds were a sure sign of a storm to come,” I add airily.

“Then I am surprised you thought about taking out the sleigh,” Gimli growls, apparently not approving of my attitude towards our guest.

“Ye are welcome lad anyway, and I see ye have brought letters with you which was very thoughtful. Come and sit down by the fire. Ye will stay the night of course. It would not be wise to go back out now.”

Tàras demurs at this saying he does not wish to cause trouble but of course he intends to stay. Why else did he come in the first place? I am about to give voice to this opinion when Gimli growls at me that I can make myself useful by going to tell Mistress Glasiel that we will need a bedchamber made ready, “and bring up a bowl of soup to warm up our visitor while you are at it.”

Thoroughly disgruntled I actually think of tipping the bowl over Tàras’s head when I return to find him deep in discussion with Gimli over pipes and guttering, something that excludes me completely from their conversation.

I ignore their efforts to get me to join in with them and take myself off saying I have things I want to be doing elsewhere.

It is bad manners I know, but I do not care, for now I not only have Gaearon but also Tàras taking my dwarf’s attention away from me and my day goes from bad to worse.


	2. Chapter 2

The noon meal is pleasant and lively as usual and I spend much of it praising my apprentice, for I know Master Forodren has been concerned that his son has not been available to take care of his usual duties lately since I’ve been keeping him so busy. I want him to see that Gaearon’s absence has been put to good purpose and that it is worth the sacrifice of time to allow me to teach the lad. Both Forodren and Gaearon look inordinately pleased with this commendation, so I am quite sure I should be able to keep Gaearon with me over the next couple of days without any objection from his father.

So there are smiles all around, except for Legolas who is picking at his food and Mistress Glasiel who has noticed this and keeps giving me pointed looks as if she thinks I should remedy the situation. I do not like to say anything that will embarrass him in front of the staff, so I try to catch his eye, but he is adamantly refusing to look at me. No doubt he is still sulking over my refusal to let him take the sleigh out and I admit to feeling a twinge of guilt over that. I have said I’ve already forgiven him over the incident and normally would not continue to bring up something that is over and done with, but I am determined that my surprise be kept a secret and I can think of no other way to achieve it. Hopefully I’ll get some cooperation from the weather for the next couple of days and we will have storms bad enough that taking the sleigh out will be out of the question.

After a few more minutes of pushing the food around on his plate, Legolas takes himself off saying that he has things to be doing this afternoon and that he does not wish to be disturbed. When I do not immediately jump up and follow, Glasiel gives me an even darker look. She does not actually say anything, for perhaps she feels it is not her place to do so, but the disapproval in face is easy enough to read. Clearly she feels I should go after him and drag him back to the table to finish the meal she has carefully planned to “put some meat on his bones,” for all her effort is wasted if he refuses to eat. She has been a great ally in my efforts to make certain the lad cares for himself properly and on a regular day I might do just as she so obviously feels I should, but today I hesitate to do so. He won’t exactly starve from missing one meal, and if I were to go after him, we would have to discuss the reasons for his disgruntlement and that would mean having to explain my reasons for refusing permission to take out the sleigh. Since my excuse for that is paper-thin, I could end up ruining the surprise we have all been trying so hard to pull off and that will not do. Not only that, but with Legolas busy with his ‘own affairs’ I will be free to work on my earlier project without interruption. Besides it is hardly the first time he has been annoyed with me, and very likely won’t be the last either. I am certain he’ll be in a better frame of mind by evening.

So in spite of Mistress Glasiel’s deep sigh as she picks up the abandoned plate, I head straight back to my workroom, bringing Gaearon with me once again. I have just finished showing Gaearon how to heat the gold to form a liquid that can be poured in the molds we earlier cast out of wax. Once the metal has cooled, the wax can be peeled away so that what is left is a leaf shaped piece of gold jewelry daintily detailed and ready to be set with the deep green stone that we are still in the process of refining. I am just about to remove the cast when a knock sounds on the workroom door. Thinking it is Legolas again, I start to hide things, but then another voice calls out from the other side of the door. It is Canthui, who informs me that we have a visitor and she has escorted him into the sitting room already.

I cannot imagine who would be so foolish as to travel to visit us when the weather has been so unpredictable and the time between blizzards has often been less than half a day. Even for folks who travel easily over snow, it has been a difficult winter. Hwiniol, who is very versed in weather lore and has been on the island his whole life, claims that this is one of the harshest winters he has seen in ages so there must be some news so important that someone has braved the weather to get to us. I hurry my steps as I begin to worry over what it might be, but my worry turns to understanding when Canthui tells me who has come to call.

After the initial trouble we had with young Tàras, he turned out to be quite an asset to our crew. As I suspected at the time a little effort and attention helped him to become an adept worker and a good friend. It is easy to see the potential in the boy and over the summer I became quite fond of him, so much so that when we were finishing for the season, I gave him an open invitation to visit anytime he had the time. Of course I hadn’t thought about him not having enough sense to stay home in such weather as we have been experiencing lately, but I should not be surprised I suppose. That elfling is so impulsive and hasty that he makes Legolas look almost steady and self controlled in comparison, which is a frightening thought. So now that I think of it, I am not at all surprised to see him out and about, though I am amazed that his folks sanctioned such an outing. Of course there is the possibility that they did not and he is here on whim. Whatever the case, he’ll have to be kept here until it is safe to travel again, for I can see out the window that the snow and wind have whipped up again.. However it is that he managed to get here, I would feel responsible should something happen to him on the way home when I can clearly see the weather is threatening.

It is hardly the most convenient time for a high maintenance visitor either, considering everything I have to get finished over the next few days and yet in spite of everything, I am extremely pleased to see Tàras when I step into the sitting room, especially when he greets me with a warm smile and reveals he has come to wish me a happy birthday. It is a thoughtful, if not well thought out gesture and I am happy to know that I have managed to make a friend out of someone who treated me with open disdain in the beginning. It is a real triumph in my opinion, though I can see already that Legolas is not nearly as happy as I am with the arrival of our guest. In fact his attitude is barely civil and seems to be rapidly digressing, so I send him off on a couple of errands before things get any lower than they already are.

While Legolas claims to have forgiven Tàras for his initial foolishness, it is not hard to see that that is not entirely the case and unfortunately Tàras can see this too, for his eyes follow as Legolas exits the room and he frowns slightly before speaking.

“Perhaps it would be better if I go home tonight after all,” He tells me.

“Don’t be silly, Lad, of course ye’ll stay here. There is plenty of room and ye’re more than welcome,” I insist.

“I truly do not wish to intrude,” he says starting to rise. “I should go before the storm gets any worse.”

“Tàras, sit down, child. Clearly I am not making myself plain,” I say. He sits down and looks up at me expectantly, plainly a little taken aback by my tone. “I am not just being polite, Lad. Weather such as we have been having is nothing to take lightly and something even an experienced traveler shouldn’t be playing with. I do not know how it is you managed to leave your own home this morning, but ye will not be leaving this one until the storm clears and I think it is safe for you to leave, so ye may as well relax and enjoy it, for you could be here for a while.”

“But Lord Gimli,” he begins, eyes growing round in alarm, “I have been taking lessons with Master Edelharn over the winter, and he will be expecting me the day after tomorrow.”

“Something ye should perhaps consider in future,” I point out, hiding a smile at his stunned expression. “ Do your folks even know you are gone?”

He flushes and looks down at his hands before softly answering, “I left a note.”

“Well that is something at least,” I chuckle, “They will likely know ye had time to arrive before the weather turned and will hopefully realize no responsible person would let ye attempt a trip back in such a storm.”

“It isn’t so bad,” he tries to convince me, “I’ve traveled in worse.”

“Perhaps,” I say, “but showing up here without leave means ye’ve place yourself in my charge and I will not change my mind. Do ye think your folks would thank me for allowing you to risk yourself in this storm?”

He stares at me for a moment or two as if he would like to say of course they wouldn’t care, or to tell me to mind my own business, but he has never come up against the stubbornness of a dwarf before and when I raise an eyebrow at him, he sighs and admits that I am probably right.

“Though the welcoming party once I finally arrive home, may not be the most comfortable.”

“Again perhaps something ye should consider in future before attempting any more unauthorized outings,” I point out, “Ye should just consider yourself fortunate that the welcome here was as ‘comfortable’ as it was considering the danger you placed yourself in to get here. As pleased as I am to see you, I would not like to see anything happen to ye because of some foolish notion, even if it was meant with the best of intentions.”

He flushes and nods miserably and I cannot help feeling a little sorry for him. He obviously hadn’t even considered that I might object to his leaving or that he would need my approval to do so. Not that there is much I could do to prevent him leaving if he really wanted to force the issue, but he will consider the fact that he is under my hospitality and his status as my apprentice reason enough to respect my authority over him. I am counting on that. Besides he hadn’t counted on the fact that I have extensive experience is with dealing with careless, recalcitrant elflings. But now that he understands how things are, I try to make him feel as welcome as possible, and tell him that we will make the most of his visit since he may be here for a few days at least.

His discomfort changes over to interest as I begin to tell him about some of the plans I’ve been working on for when the work on the house resumes in spring.

“I’d like your opinion on them, Lad,” I tell him. “After ye’ve warmed up a bit we can go into my office and take a look at them.”

He smiles at that, pleased that I value his thoughts on the matter and before long he is talking animatedly about the work we will do once the weather turns, throwing in some ideas of his own that he’s been thinking about over the last couple of months since we’ve seen one another. By the time Legolas arrives back with the hot soup, Tàras is seemingly perfectly content with the situation he finds himself in, in spite of the fact that he may have to stay longer than he initially planned and in spite of the potential trouble he may have unwittingly caused himself.

On the other hand, Legolas’ attitude has not changed one bit for the better. If anything it has spiraled further, for every attempt we make at bringing him into the conversation is pointedly ignored. Again I try to catch his eye but he refuses to look at me until I begin to think I am going to have to excuse him from the room before he completely offends our guest. Before I decide to do so, he states that he has things he needs to be doing and just barely avoids stomping off, no doubt to brood in private. I have no idea what has gotten into him all of a sudden. I know he was unhappy with me over the sleigh, but that is hardly Tàras’ fault, and even if he is not crazy about the lad, that is no excuse to be discourteous to a neighbor. Obviously this is something we need to discuss before the evening meal for I do not think I will be able to keep the peace if something doesn’t change and soon. Speaking of the evening meal, it dawns on me that Tàras is still sitting around in wet clothes and is likely very uncomfortable by now, though he hasn’t complained of course.

“Mistress Glasiel will have made a room ready for ye, Lad. Perhaps ye’d like to change and rest a bit before dinner?”

“Indeed I would, Lord Gimli,” he says, looking uncomfortable again, “but I hadn’t planned on being here overnight you see…”

“Of course you didn’t,” I say, slapping my forehead. How could I have forgotten? “but do not worry. Why don’t I show ye to the guest room and then I’ll bring ye something to put on while ye have a hot bath. I’ll leave everything in the bedchamber for ye.”

He agrees and after I show him to the guest chamber and watch him smile over the fanciful leaf shaped bed, I go back to my own bedchamber and through the dressing room to Legolas to talk to him and to find something for our guest to wear. I can only imagine how well that request is gong to go over.

I find my elfling leaning against the windowsill and staring out at the rapidly falling snow. I guess this was the ‘important business’ he needed to attend to. He turns toward me when he hears me enter and I can see that he looks truly unhappy, something I do not like to see, but I do not know what to do about it. I cannot send Tàras home in this weather, and besides it is part of being a good host to put up with less than desirable guests at times. Not liking someone is no excuse for rude behavior, something Legolas well knows by now. Besides if he’d just give the lad a chance and let go of his anger over his earlier behavior, I believe he would quite like him. Tàras is lighthearted and kind, not to mention the fact that he is intelligent, hard working, and willing to learn new things. If only Legolas would take the time to see him as he really is, I believe they might even become friends in time. I do not say any of this right now, though, but just ask for the loan of some clothes for our guest.

“You see, he did not expect to stay overnight,” I explain.

Legolas is not impressed. “What kind of idiot goes out visiting in this sort of weather?” he growls, but then flushes when I raise an eyebrow. It was only a few days ago the he did something very similar, traveling to New Imladris in order to pick up some completely superfluous items for our pantry.

“My clothes won’t fit him,” he complains, changing tactics.

“Perhaps not perfectly,” I agree, “ but ye are closer to his size than anyone else around here. Who else would ye suggest he borrow them from? I can hardly loan him mine.”

I have to smile at the idea though, thinking of Tàras in clothes a foot too short and three times his width.

Legolas yanks the dresser drawer open and rifles angrily through the contents, speaking under his breath the whole time.

“He could borrow Aerlinn’s clothes,” he spits, “She is about his size. I’m sure he’d look very pretty in one of her dresses.”

He unwillingly shoves the pile of clothes into my arms and steps aside for me to go past him toward the door, but I have had just about enough of his bad attitude for one day and so I tell him.

“No matter your personal feeling toward the Lad, he is my friend and our guest and you will be polite, else I will have something to say about it. Now ye’ve got about one hour to finish this little strop and then straighten your face and come down to dinner.”

He scowls at me, no doubt having just realized Tàras would be joining us in the dining room this evening. We usually take the last meal of the day alone, but we can hardly exclude a guest from dining with us.

“I am not hungry,” he states emphatically, but missing dinner is out of the question. Besides it being bad manners, Mistress Glasiel would have my head if he weren’t present.

“Well I’m sorry to hear that, but ye’ll be joining us anyway. Ye’ve already skipped one meal because of your sulking today, don’t think I didn’t notice,” I say. “Ye’re just going to have to learn to get along with Tàras one way or another, especially since I won’t be free to entertain him in the morning, so ye’ll have to do it.”

“Why do I have to entertain that…”

“I promised Gaearon I would work with him in the morning that’s why,” I inform him. I’ve lost half the day today that I meant to spend working on my surprise gift so it will not do to skip tomorrow. Of course I do not say any of this. Instead I say, “It won’t hurt ye none to at least pretend to be nice.”

The evening meal turns out better than it might have been, though Legolas is still scowling at the beginning of it. A light kick under the table and a pointed look, lets him know that he is skating on very thin ice with me, so he manages to change his expression to a more neutral one, and to swallow some of the food on his plate while Tàras chatters on, raving about the meal. Canthui and Aerlinn, who are serving us, are completely charmed and even Mistress Glasiel cannot hide a blush at his compliments.

After dinner I usually retire to the sitting room with my elfling where we read together or just enjoy one another’s company, but I sense this is not something he would like to share with our visitor. So instead I invite the two of them into my office to take a look at some of the plans I’ve drawn up. Tàras is more than pleased to join me, but Legolas declines, claiming tiredness. I can see that he is sincerely unhappy, and realize that there must be more behind this than being kept from the sleigh or annoyance at Tàras so I promise myself I will try to wheedle it out of him before the night is over.

Legolas takes himself off and I show Tàras the house plans. I very much enjoy his enthusiasm and his pleasant chatter, but still I only stay with him as long as good manners dictate I must. I am anxious to speak to my own elfling, so as soon as I am able I bid our guest goodnight, and hurry to my own chambers.

I come through the dressing room again and when there is no answer to my light knock, I enter quietly only to find that it is too late, he is already asleep. I almost wake him up, but decide against it. Maybe a good long sleep will be all that is needed to make whatever is troubling him seem brighter in the morning. Instead I quietly move away from his bed and close the door softly behind me, hoping tomorrow will be a better day.

 

XXXX

It has been a very long and very miserable day, and it was all I could do to keep my tongue between my teeth when I was called upon to not only provide clothing for our unexpected, and in my view unwanted, guest, but I am also expected to ‘entertain’ him tomorrow!. Well I was not prepared to do that, even with a kick on the shin, and I was quick to withdraw after the meal.

There was no way I was going to spend the rest of the evening listening to Tàras telling Gimli how ‘wonderful’ he was and how ‘brilliant’ his designs were. Yes I know how much I owe my friend and more than any I know how talented he is, but I do not subscribe to the view that I have to flatter him senseless, or listen to someone else doing so.

So as soon as I could escape from the dining chamber I did so and retired to my bedchamber where I could be reasonably certain that I would not find Tàras, although I am surprised I have not been asked to vacate my rooms for him so he might be comfortable!

I do smirk to myself as I wonder what Tàras will make of the bed in his temporary chamber. He will probably think it is ‘amazing.” It will certainly suit him almost as much as Aerlinn’s dresses would have done.

The snowstorm has blown itself out at last. How typical that now when night has fallen and arrangements have been made for Tàras’ comfort the weather is finally dry. If there were more stars I might even suggest Tàras start out now. It would be pointless of course for Gimli would veto any such thing as rash and foolish, not to mention appallingly bad hospitality.

So I resign myself to having our guest overnight at least, although I do not see why I have to be the one to entertain him tomorrow morning. Why cannot Gaearon give up his lesson with Gimli instead? He is supposed to be learning the art of the smith not the fine work that the workroom was designed for. What are they doing in there and why am I so forcibly excluded from it? It is not fair!

 

Knowing that Gimli will be bound to come in before he goes to bed and will likely take me to task for my ill manners at the beginning of dinner, I decide to postpone that meeting by retiring to bed early. I claimed I was tired and in truth I am. I had not realized just how much the sea longing had affected my health but Lord Elrond explained to me that my natural immunity and strength has to rebuild itself, and just like a very young elfling I will need more rest and regular meals to make a full recovery and return to proper health. It is likely to take several seasons, he told me, and I must remain patient and listen to the advice of my healers; as if I have any choice when my healer is Lord Elrond himself.

Sleep comes swiftly and although I hear Gimli open the door between our chambers to check on me it is only a moment before I drift off again. I am more exhausted than I realized.

First meal is always taken in the kitchen and I ensure I am up early so that I can eat in peace, but to my chagrin I find Tàras before me and he is holding forth on the wondrous cooking of Mistress Glasiel. It is enough to put me off my own break of fast. I would just take bread and cheese and go elsewhere but Glasiel is eyeing me severely knowing that I hardly ate more than enough to ‘keep a sparrow alive’ as the Hobbits were accustomed to saying, so I force myself to sit down and at least be civil to Tàras asking him if he slept well and if the clothing I lent him is suitable.

Gimli must have overheard me asking for as he comes forward he pats my shoulder approvingly and adds his own voice to the various enquiries as to Tàras wellbeing.  
Rapidly tiring of this, I ask whether I can assist Gimli this morning but he says that he has Gaearon with him so I should turn my attention to amusing our guest. I know he said this last evening but I had hoped he would change his mind, but he has not and this but deepens my concern and makes me wonder what it is I have done to earn such disregard. I did try to be polite to Tàras after all.

All too soon the kitchen is emptying leaving only Tàras and me sitting staring at each other. I scowl at him wondering how long he will be hanging around here. Can he not see he is not welcome and that he should take himself off sooner rather than later?

The sky outside is clear blue once more but if the day progresses as it has done the last few days we are likely to have a snowstorm coming in during the late afternoon.

I get to my feet announcing, “I am going out to the stable. I have work to do since Gaearon is assisting Gimli. We only have a few staff here and everyone is kept busy just with the day to day things.” I give Tàras a thin smile as I add, “We are not yet in a position to have guests staying with us, even welcome ones.”

I can see my words have struck the intended target and when I make a comment on the improvement in the weather and how we should have a few hours of sunshine at least, and that Master Edelharn must be concerned over his unscheduled absence Tàras has little choice but to speak up and say he really must make his way home.

“Really?” I say with spurious surprise and regret, “what a shame! Still if you are sure, I will get your horse ready for you.”

“Thank you,” he responds a little stiffly. “I will just make my farewells to Lord Gimli.”

I almost panic at this, for I can imagine the reaction should Gimli find out I had ‘encouraged’ Tàras to depart, but I somehow manage to retain a calm demeanor as I respond.

“Gimli will not wish to be disturbed. I will pass on your farewells to him. There is no need for formality. You know that Gimli does not stand on ceremony, so he will not be offended if you do not take leave of him personally.”

I know Tàras would like to argue with me but it would be very impolite to do so since I am the lord of this house in name at least and so it is that I am soon waving him off as he turns his horse towards New Imladris. Now all I have to do is to keep the news of his departure from Gimli for as long as I can, which given the fact that he has locked himself in his workshop again should not be too difficult.

I may have to face some sharp questioning at the reason behind this abrupt departure but with Tàras gone I have only to say he was the one who insisted on returning home and since Gimli was engaged with Gaearon he said not to disturb them and all should be well for there is no one here to gainsay me. And with any luck it will be spring before we see Tàras again.

Gimli and Gaearon do not appear at the noon meal for which I am very grateful because the weather has closed in more swiftly than I anticipated, although Tàras should still have plenty of time to get to New Imladris before the snow becomes too heavy.

When Gimli finally does emerge and asks after our guest he is not at all pleased by the news that Tàras left this morning. I give him my best Thranduilesque stare when he asks why I did not come to tell him of Tàras’ intentions earlier.

“Tàras did not wish to interrupt your work, and you have made it plain that you do not like me to disturb you when you are with your apprentice as he must have your undivided attention.” He is about to object to that so I add “a locked door is a good indicator of whether someone will be welcome or not. At least it appears to be so to me.”

Gimli gives me a sharp look in return and I wonder if I have gone too far but before he can speak the door to the kitchen opens and Hwiniol hurries in.

“Lord Legolas, Lord Gimli! Master Tàras’s horse has just come into the yard without him. Her knees are skinned and it looks as if she has had a fall.”

Valar help me now! I grab a cloak and hurry out into the storm. If Tàras is injured or worse I am likely to find myself in Mandos Halls by the end of the day.

Since there is only one road out of the valley that leads to New Imladris I am soon riding out in that direction a storm lantern in my hand and Gimli’s words of concern still ringing in my ears. He is still unaware of who it was who encouraged Tàras to leave and I would like him to remain in ignorance a great deal longer, but for now the important thing is to find Tàras.

I have almost reached the summit of the hill that separates our home from the valley where New Imladris is when I see a figure coming toward me.

“Tàras!”

“Lord Legolas, I am happy to see you.” He is limping but seems relatively unscathed although he appears to be cradling something in his arms.

“Your horse came into the stables without you and we were concerned for your safety.”

Tàras looks a little sheepish, “I am afraid I was not paying sufficient attention to the road and something ran out into her path. She stumbled and I fell. It was a stupid thing to do and I was well served when she chose to make off for the comfort of her stable without me. I would have made it back more quickly but I seem to have damaged my knee and I could not leave this poor animal out in the storm.”

He lifts his sodden cloak at this and I see he is carrying a small, bedraggled cat held within his tunic.

“She is heavily pregnant and what she was doing this far away from home I do not know. I only know I had to try and bring her to safety.”

I am ashamed of my own poor thoughts of Tàras, for I see now that he is genuinely concerned for the cat and not in the least worried for himself or seeking to blame anyone other than himself for his misfortune.

I dismount and help him protesting up into the saddle, wrapping a spare cloak over his shoulders and tucking it in over the disheveled cat and we set off back down the hill towards the house. I shade the lantern three times first, so that the others out searching and those in the house will know I have found Tàras.

On our return Tàras is hurried off by Gimli and Fimbrethil. Canthui follows with hot towels and more of my clothing for him to change into once he has bathed. I remain in the kitchen grateful to be away from Gimli’s disapproval. My attention is now on the other little waif from the storm. Hwiniol and Aerlinn are rubbing the small cat down in front of the kitchen fire. She may be in kitten but she is painfully thin and being wet makes her look even thinner.

Mistress Glasiel is looking somewhat askance at the rather scruffy feline now sitting on her rag rug and I feel the need to plead her cause.

“We do not have a cat and a good mouser is always useful.”

“And how do we know she is a good mouser?” Glasiel seems unimpressed, “she looks half-starved to me.”

“No doubt she has lost her home somehow and she was seeking shelter and has had little time to hunt,” Aerlinn also comes out in support of the cat.

As if she knows her fate hangs in the balance the cat looks at Glasiel and gives a small piteous meow. She is drier now and cleaner than she was and I can see that her fur will be a mixture of cream and ginger.

Aerlinn and I exchange looks but keep quiet as Glasiel runs a finger down the cat’s head and the cat responds by pushing her head up and purring at her. I see she is weakening and mention that the cat is in kitten.

“Poor little soul. Well we cannot put her out in this weather. Aerlinn, fetch me one of the linen baskets from the laundry and a couple of those blankets that were used for wrapping the furniture in. Hwiniol there is some left over roast fowl in the pantry cut her a few pieces and put them on a saucer.”

They both hurry to do her bidding and soon the cat is tucking into a dish of chicken. Aerlinn has placed the laundry basket near the fire and as soon as she has finished her meal the cat investigates the basket thoroughly before stepping in and curling up basking in the warmth and comfort.

 

“Thank you,” I say and my housekeeper sniffs and answers

“This is your house Lord Legolas. If you want the cat to stay then stay she can. It is nothing to do with me.” She sees I am grinning so she adds “and as you say it would be cruel indeed to put her out in this weather and her in the state she is in.”

“Then we will have to give her a name,” I answer “What shall it be?”

“Perhaps we should leave it to Tàras to name her since he was the one she encountered first,”

And I find I cannot argue with that. It seems the least I can do to let Tàras give our newest member of the household a name.

The cat continues to purr contentedly. I, however, know I cannot put off the likely confrontation with Gimli for much longer. Once again I carry a bowl of hot soup up to the guest room where Gimli and Fimbrethil are just settling Tàras into the bed.

The first words I hear are Gimli’s. He is giving Tàras a right bear garden jaw.

“You and I are going to be having words about your departure this morning young Tàras. Not only was it foolish but it was dangerous as well. I expected more from ye than that lad.”

Tàras is looking very uncomfortable but he does not answer by telling Gimli that it was my doing that he left. He merely apologizes for his conduct.

“Aye ye will be sorry, young elf, for I dinna take well to such poor conduct, and I doubt Master Edelharn or your parents will be too pleased with ye either.”

Again Tàras says nothing although his eyes meet mine as I enter with the tray. Guilt floods through me and I know I have to speak up in his defense since he will not.

“You are scolding the wrong person Gimli.”

“Eh?”

“Tàras left this morning because I made it plain to him that he was not welcome and I also prevented him from making his farewells as he wished to do,” Tàras attempts to speak but I raise my hand and silence him, “I am the one who is in the wrong Gimli, though it shames me to have to admit it. But while I may have many failings I am not so selfish as to allow Tàras to take the blame for something that is entirely my doing.” I turn my head to look back at Tàras again, “I have not treated you well, Tàras, and I can only beg your pardon.”

All the while I have been speaking I have watched Gimli’s face darken and I know he is very angry and quite rightly so and not only angry, but worse, disappointed. I can take the anger but having him disappointed in me is painful.

I can see Gimli is struggling with his anger for he takes a long deep breath before speaking and when he does his words are short and to the point. I am dismissed to my bedchamber to await his arrival. I open my mouth to say something but Gimli is having none of it.

“Go”

 

He all but pushes me out of the door ignoring my attempts to offer another apology. I am left staring at the closed door in dismay. I deserve Gimli’s anger. I would welcome it for it would at least allow me to show my remorse for my actions, but instead I am summarily dismissed so Gimli can turn his attention to Tàras again. Pain and a feeling of  
abandonment grow and supplant my guilt over Tàras.


	3. Chapter 3

On a day when I have many tasks that need to be finished, the last place I expected to find myself in the middle of the afternoon was sitting in front of the fire in the sitting room with a raggedy feline purring in my lap. I have been told that this is the newest member of our household and by the looks of her there will be more to come very soon. What we are to do with a houseful of cats I do not know, but I must admit that there is something charming about the way she rubs her ears against my hand and closes her eyes in pleasure as I stroke a place just under her cream colored chin. The contented sounds she makes is soothing to my jangled nerves as well, which might be exactly what dear Aerlinn had in mind when she brought her over to introduce her to me. A sweet thoughtful girl Aerlinn is, very like her aunt who raised her.

No doubt Glasiel and Aerlinn realized the day had been a difficult one, for they were both present when Legolas and I had words in the kitchen earlier about the unapproved departure of our guest and they also saw the commotion when Tàras’ horse returned without him. They were there when Legolas brought Tàras back limping and soaked to the bone as well.

I was more than a little put out with the lad, risking himself like that especially after making my wishes on the matter clear, but of course I could hardly blame him for doing what he did after I was finally told the truth about the matter. Tàras was put in a difficult spot today between my instructions to stay put and Legolas broad hints that he should leave, and now he is not only injured but also completely humiliated by the whole situation. I am honestly mortified that a guest and friend was made to feel so unwelcome and uncomfortable in my own home. Thank the Valar he was not badly injured since we do not have a healer in residence and getting to one through the storm would not have been an easy task.

I’ll admit also that I was quite furious with Legolas in spite of his apology and admission that he was to blame for the whole situation. I’m afraid I was rather short with him as well and I could not hide my disappointment in his behavior since it proved that I have very obviously failed somewhere along the line to make it clear that this sort of conduct is completely unsuitable and unacceptable. Perhaps a more pointed discussion over his poor manners yesterday might have prevented such a disastrous outcome. Had I done so, Tàras would not now be sitting in our guest room bed in pain from a twisted knee and Legolas would not be stewing in his own bedchamber, no doubt suffering from a guilty conscience and drenched in remorse. It is not good for him to suffer such agony of mind, but there is no help for it. It would be much worse if I were to make the mistake of responding in anger and just then I was furious with him for endangering Tàras, not to mention putting me in such an embarrassing position. I am even angrier with myself for not having foreseen this possibility and putting a stop to it earlier. If I had gone to him right away I’d have been be tempted to throttle him and that of course is out of the question so he will just have to wait until I have had a chance to calm down and deal with him fairly. I do not like to give him too much time to worry, but this time it cannot be helped.

Mistress Glasiel always seems to know the right thing to do in any given situation, for the moment she saw me coming downstairs after this afternoon’s debacle, she lead me directly to the sitting room where a fire had already been lit and a pot of hot tea was waiting for me. Without saying a word, she handed me my already filled pipe and a flint to light it and then left the room after offering a sympathetic smile. Before I had smoked half of it, Aerlinn peeked shyly around the door and then placed the bundle of ginger and cream fur in my arms before being called back to her duties.

The two of us have been sitting together for nearly half an hour now, and I am admittedly beginning to feel much more myself. The release of the fragrant smoke from my lungs always has a calming affect. That combined with the warmth of the fire and the vibration of the little beastie under my hand begins to make me feel much more mellow and philosophical about the situation. I did not expect it to be an easy task when I made the decision to come here, and knew that mistakes would be made at times. At least the lad realized and admitted to his own fault in the matter, something that might not have happened in our very early days together. Not that it is an excuse, but Tàras did give Legolas good reason to take him into dislike, though I had hoped he’d realized that holding a grudge never does anyone any good.

Still Tàras was not badly injured and I think there is hope for a good reconciliation between the two of them and a resolution to the problem. After forty minutes or so with my pipe and my new friend, I feel able to deal calmly with my errant elfling and am about to go to him when I realize the little cat has fallen asleep in my lap. I know it is a ridiculous notion, but I hate to wake her. The poor thing has had a difficult day after all all, with the storm and with her being in a delicate condition so against my better judgment I decide to wait a few minutes to see if she will awaken on her own.

 

This turns out to be a big mistake, for the next thing I know an urgent voice is waking me.

“Lord Gimli.” It is Fimbrethil’s voice.

“Eh?” I sit up, startled as the cat leaps to the floor. A quick glance out the window shows me that it has been at least three hours since I first came downstairs. I have left my elfling stewing for far too long. I want to go to him, but Fimbrethil’s next words prevent me.

“I hate to disturb you my Lord, but I wish you would speak to young Master Tàras. He seems to have some maggot in his head about leaving yet tonight. I have tried to talk sense into him about it, but he is determined to do so.”

“Oh for Aûle’s sake, what next?” I demand. “Are all young elves so hard headed and unreasonable?”

Fimbrethil laughs at this. “I am sorry to say that the vast majority of them are it seems,” he says.

I hurry to climb back up the stairs, cringing a bit when I pass Legolas’ door, for I do sincerely regret having left him for so long, but I do not have time to stop and explain right now. Instead I go directly to the guest chamber and knock once to announce that I am about to enter. Inside I find our guest sitting on the edge of the bed and holding onto a bedside table. He is very pale and his eyes are wrenched closed as if he’s trying to work up the courage to put weight on his painfully swollen knee.

“Where exactly do ye think ye’re going Lad?” I ask causing him to start a little in surprise. He hesitates for a moment or two then starts to explain himself.

“I have already taken too much of your kind hospitality,” he tells me. “It would not be right to stay when I should never have even come the first place, though I swear it was not my intention to cause you trouble.”

With this he does manage to stand, keeping his weight on his good leg, but when he starts to shift it to take a step, he cannot help the small gasp that escapes his throat. I step forward quickly and grasp him by the arm just in case his knee might give out and cause him further damage.

“Don’t be daft, Child,” I say, pressing on his shoulder to force him to sit back down. “Ye’re no trouble and I was quite pleased that you came to see us, even if I did think ye should practice more caution in the future. That’s no reason for ye to feel ye have to leave now.”

“But the storm has stopped,” he insists, “There is no reason for me to continue to stay, when I have already stayed too long.”

I can see he is terribly embarrassed at having unwittingly caused chaos in our household though it was mostly through no fault of his own this time. I can understand his feelings, but it would be insanity to allow him to go now when he is injured and it is almost dark besides. I gently push him back into the pillows tap the side of one leg to indicate that he should get back into the bed. Once he has done so I carefully help him prop the injured knee on a pillow to keep it elevated to help bring the swelling down.. I pull a chair up to the bedside and pat his hand.

“Listen to me, Youngling,” I say, “There is no way ye’re leaving here tonight when ye’re injured and its almost dark outside. Ye’ll need to stay off of that knee for a day or so at least and it would be very irresponsible of me to allow ye to go off before its healed. There is nothing at all to worry over, Lad. We’re happy to have you and all you need to do is let us take care of you. Ye’ll not be leaving here again until ye hear directly from me that it is safe to do so.”

He flushes hotly, no doubt remembering the reason for his decision to leave against my orders to begin with. As I said before, Tàras was placed in a very awkward situation between the differing wills of Legolas and myself. I am sure he wants more than anything to be away from here and back home with the folks he is accustomed to even if he is likely to be in a bit of hot water over his unscheduled absence. Feeling unwell in an unfamiliar place is no doubt an uncomfortable experience.

When he looks up at me, his eyes are suspiciously bright and I have a feeling that if he were with someone he knew better, he would burst into tears of frustration and humiliation, not to mention the pain that he has to be in. It seems the natural thing to do to reach up to pat his cheek, but when I do so, this act of sympathy causes his eyes to overflow and two tears to escape before he angrily brushes them away with his sleeve. At first I think about pretending not to notice this, so as not to add to his embarrassment, but a sudden overwhelming desire to offer solace overcomes me and I find myself pulling his head against my shoulder while offering what words of comfort I can think of.

“Do not fret so, Child, “ I say, rubbing circles on his heaving back. “Ye’ll feel better very soon and be able to go back home to your kin in no time.”

“Forgive me, Lord Gimli,” he chokes into my shoulder. “You must think me a complete fool.”

“Not at all, Lad. Its perfectly understandable for ye to be a little upset considering the day ye’ve had. What ye need is some food and a little distraction,” I inform him, and then I have another thought. “And maybe something for pain. Are ye hurting Lad?”

“A little maybe,” he admits, though I have an idea from looking at his pale face that it might be a bit more than that. He did walk a very long way after damaging his knee initially and it looked terribly swollen when we were wrapping it before.

“I’ll see what I can find for ye and then I’ll be right back,” I say. “Ye are not to move from this spot without assistance, understand?”

He nods and offers me a watery smile and then I hurry down to the kitchen to see what can be found in the cupboards. Mistress Glasiel spots me with the pain relieving herbs and quickly takes them from me and brews them into a very fragrant tea to which she adds a generous amount of honey to hide the bitter taste. It is well past the time when we usually take the evening meal and I can see that she has covered the food in an attempt to keep it warm for us. I feel another pang of regret that very likely Legolas hasn’t eaten either for he is not likely to leave his bedchamber without my leave to do so even if he has been there far too long by now. I wish now that I had thought to mention to him that he should attend the evening meal without me. He probably would not thank me for sending Glasiel in with a tray right now when he is likely in turmoil waiting for so long or I would just have something sent to him. It is a shame, and a terrible oversight on my part, but I will amend all of that as soon as I am finished with my present task.

I try to hurry without giving Tàras the impression that I am in a hurry to be away. He already feels like a nuisance and a burden and I will not add to his discomfort by making him think I cannot wait to leave his side.

He thanks me politely and attempts to eat some of the food I’ve brought with me, and finishes all the tea when I encourage him to do so. Instead of leaving right away, I sit in the chair beside him and begin trying to entertain him by telling him stories of life in Middle Earth and some of the history of the dwarves, which he is not very familiar with. He does his best to pay attention and comments and smiles in all the right places, but before long I can see he is struggling to stay awake, no doubt from the combination of a difficult day and the effects of the pain relieving tea he has been drinking. I change from telling stories, to humming some of the songs of my people and soon he has drifted off. When I am certain he is truly sleeping, I heave a sigh of relief and quietly slip into the corridor.

As I finally walk toward Legolas’ bedchamber, I think to myself that I must not be too hard on him after all. He is likely to be upset and confused by my long absence besides being a mass of jangled nerves by now so the best thing is to try to explain what happened and get this over quickly. Of course, I must not be too easy either, lest he come away with the idea that I find that sort of juvenile conduct acceptable in any way or that he ends up still feeling eaten alive with guilt. It is a delicate balance getting these things right and something I am sure I’ve made a mess of on more than one occasion, but at least now I feel capable of being fair in my actions and not over reacting.

I hesitate just outside his door to school my features into something like calm determination, only to step inside and find the room empty.

XXXX

“Go” were the last words Gimli spoke to me, and since the door was closed in my face I had little choice but to do as I was bid. I slouched off to my bedchamber and flung myself into the window seat, the horrible fluttering in my stomach beginning almost as soon as I closed the door of my own bedchamber behind me, for I knew that Gimli was very angry with me and an angry dwarf is something to be avoided if at all possible.  
Still I had earned his anger so I was if not happy at least resigned to what was to come.

But winter afternoon has long since turned into a winter night. I have not bothered to light the candles preferring to sit in the gathering gloom. My room is lit only by the glow of the fire while outside the snowstorm has blown itself out to be replaced by a cold starlit night.

I have heard doors opening and closing and quiet voices in conversation on several occasions and each time I have stood and prepared myself for Gimli’s arrival only he has not come. I heard him leave Tàras’s chamber quite some time ago so why has he not come to me?

 

Initially I would have almost welcomed his arrival for it would have allowed me to be rid of the guilty feelings I have over what happened to Tàras but now …  
How much longer will I be expected to meekly sit here awaiting dwarven retribution?

My guilty feelings at what had befallen Tàras are being replaced with growing resentment for my present situation.

Yes, I was wrong to try and get rid of Tàras as I did, and I wish very much that he had not been injured as he was. I admit I misjudged him for from what I heard he was going to take the blame for his leaving so abruptly and not tell Gimli that it was me that forced him to go I could not allow that. I may have my faults but I would not see him in trouble with Gimli when it was my doing.

What is more I was willing to try and make amends with him and to take any punishment my selfish actions brought me. I apologized immediately and would have said more in an attempt to reconcile myself with him had I not been hustled out of the room by Gimli.

My brow furrows at this memory…

It was as if he could not wait to be rid of me, something that in the last few days seems to be an increasing circumstance as far as my dwarven guardian is concerned. From being at the center of his world I have been pushed off to the sidelines, abandoned. And the catalyst for this change has been Gaearon. Since Forodren’s son took up his apprenticeship, Gimli has spent hardly any time with me. It was not so noticeable while I was planning and preparing for Gimli’s birthday but now it is clear Gimli would sooner spend time with him than me.

Tàras’s arrival just exacerbated the situation. Yesterday when Tàras arrived Gimli could not wait to show him his plans for the house and to talk to him about his designs. I felt left out and excluded from their talk and neither of them seemed to notice or care when I withdrew from their company.

 

I thought Gimli was happy and our relationship strong, but it seems I was wrong. Perhaps I have come to expect too much of him. Mayhap my neediness is beginning to pall and he is looking to spend time with those who take an interest in his interests, working with metals and building design. Perhaps it is because I have not shown sufficient interest in these things that Gimli has had to look elsewhere for companionship. He is a lone dwarf here on Tol Eressëa and no doubt he welcomes others who can talk and take part in his particular hobbies. Have I been too selfish, too self-centered and not noticed or paid heed to his needs?’

I worked really hard to make Gimli’s birthday a success and thought I had succeeded; yet in the aftermath of that celebration he has withdrawn from me both physically and emotionally, literally locking me out of his life.

I have been barred from both the forge and his workroom; he laughs and talks with Gaearon and Tàras while I am banished. Why?  
There is no answer and I fall into further ponderings and wonderings as the time moves on …

Finally I hear the familiar sound of Gimli’s feet on the stairs. I rise and smooth my tunic down, taking a steadying breath. Perhaps now I will have an opportunity to not only make amends over my conduct with Tàras but also to get some answers.

But rather than enter, Gimli goes past. It seems as if he hesitates for a second or two but then goes on by to the guest chamber. He is just checking on Tàras I tell myself, and will be back almost immediately but after a while I realize that is not going to happen.

I look out at the winter night, trying to decide what to do. I stand irresolute for a couple of moments then make a decision and open the door. I will go and demand to speak to Gimli. Better his anger and his presence than this interminable waiting and wondering.

The hallway is still empty and I move silently down the hall until I reach the guest room. The door is slightly ajar and I swallow hard at the sight that greets me.  
Gimli is holding Tàras in his arms soothing him with soft words.

If anything was needed to make plain to me my new place in my dwarf’s life it was this. He is offering comfort to another when he should be with me!

I creep back to my bedchamber and close the door just as Gimli exits and comes bustling down the hallway. I wait, half hopefully, half in dread, but again he goes by without entering.

My frustration is growing with the minutes.

Why should I sit here meekly awaiting his arrival when he so obviously wishes to be with anyone other than me?

I swallow on the sob that comes into my throat at this thought, and force myself to breathe deeply and calm myself. ‘Go’ Gimli told me earlier. Well perhaps I should …

Making up my mind I pull on my outdoor boots, and pick up a cloak and my bow and strap on my quiver and knives. I am unsure where I will go but go I will … I will not stay here any longer.

 

Of course getting out of the house is easier said than done. I have to avoid meeting any of my household as I attempt to slip away, for while the more junior ones would most likely only drop a curtsey or give me an inclination of the head, as I passed, they would undoubtedly report seeing me to Glasiel or Fimbrethil which would alert them to my absence and they would just as surely tell Gimli. If I am to get away it is vital I do so without anyone noticing me so that I can be well on my way before the alarm is raised.

For a moment more I hesitate, for deep down I know that Gimli cares for me very much and I do not like to worry or hurt him but then I straighten and remind myself that he has left me here for several hours already, so he deserves a fright of his own.It will do him good to find that I am not where he expects me to be when he finally condescends to come and ‘discuss’ my conduct with me.

I glance out of the window to see the wind is beginning to pick up again and it is blowing the snow about. That suits me, for it will cover any tracks I might make during my escape.

Of course running off into the night while satisfying would be pointless if I have nowhere to run to. I have to have a destination in mind. Not New Imladris, for Elrond and Erestor would soon ferret out the truth about my unannounced arrival and I would no doubt be hauled off home again in disgrace. No I will make for the city of Avallónë, which means I will need a horse for it is too far to travel on foot in this weather.  
I will also need to have some food and something to drink in case I get stranded on the road. I find my pack and sling it over my shoulder and then cautiously open my bedchamber door and make for the staircase.

I go carefully past the kitchen, where I hear Glasiel calling for Aerlinn and Canthui to go and clear the dining room since it is plain that “neither of our lords intend to eat dinner tonight’ and make it to the pantry where I snatch up cold chicken, bread, fruit and cheese wrap them into a napkin and take one of the wine skins hanging by the door for good measure. It seems wrong to be sneaking food in my own house but I do not intend to go hungry. Avoiding the maids I go into the empty study where there are glass doors that open out onto the courtyard. I hesitate again for Gimli has put me on oath not to use windows to come and go from the house, and I know he calls these particular ‘doors’ glass windows, but they are meant to be used as doors so I am not really flouting his ban. And anyway why should I care if I am?

I pull back the heavy curtains only to suffer another setback. There is still light coming from the open door into the stables. Of course it is likely that Forodren will be sitting with Tàras’s horse for she suffered cut knees in the accident earlier. My plan for taking my own mount is thrown into confusion. I know full well that Forodren is as likely to agree to me riding off into the night as Samwise Gamgee was of leaving Frodo to walk to Mordor alone.

But I have not come this far only to turn back and retreat meekly to my rooms again. I could wait here but there is always a chance someone will come in to see all is secured for the night. I need to find somewhere out of the house to wait until Forodren and Hwiniol go into the main building for their own belated supper.

The smithy and the carriage shed are both locked of course, so I turn my eyes in the other direction and see exactly what I need. The main part of the house is still under construction. Of course the main walls and beams are in place but there is no roof as yet except in the area where the supplies and wood is kept. Here a temporary roof has been raised and shutters placed at the windows, and from there I will get a clear view of the stables and the kitchens. Making my mind up I slip out into the courtyard carefully closing the door behind me and then dart across the open court and into the wood store.  
In the darkness of the half completed building, I pull the oiled covers from the stacked wood and use it to keep out the worst of the drafts. I use another tarpaulin as a seat and make myself as comfortable as I can.

All I have to do is wait until the coast is clear before I make my escape.


	4. Chapter 4

My first thought as I look around the empty room is that Legolas must be in the bathing chamber, but that cannot be it since the door is standing open. Perhaps he went downstairs to the kitchen. I could hardly hold that against him seeing as how he’s been kept waiting for so many hours already. It certainly was not my intention for things to turn out that way and I hardly expected that he continue to wait quietly without water or sustenance for the entire night. I am about to go downstairs to check, when I notice something that makes my heart stand still.

The bow that always hangs on the wall is missing and on closer inspection I find that his knives and quiver and boots are missing as well. None of these things paint a very comforting picture and my next thought is to wonder if this day can possibly get any worse. I cannot remember the last time I’ve made this much of a mess of an already bad situation for clearly it is my own fault that things have sunk to this level. Had I not been so careless as to fall asleep and leave the lad stewing for hours, this would have been long dealt with and over by now. What I’ve managed to do is give him too much time to wonder and worry and get himself worked into a dither to the point where there is no telling what sort of convoluted ideas formed in that flighty brain of his. I well know that he has a tendency to act on first impulse and think things through later, so I should have known to be more careful.

In my defense I am still getting used to this healthier, more cunning version of the child. He is now much more like he was in our early days together. Back then I got fairly adept at predicting his actions and therefore better at preventing disasters like this one. I guess I’ve become soft in the last few years when he rarely took the initiative to do anything other than sit staring out a window, let alone come up with ways to get into mischief. Of course I am thrilled that he is returning to his former self, but I can see that I am going to have to step up my game if I am to keep him in one piece long enough to meet his father again. The fact that he has managed to get into bother four times in two weeks and two of those inside of one day makes me realize I am going to have to be more diligent. Perhaps I should consider tethering him to my person for the next year or so. At least then he might quit coming up missing at all sorts of awkward times!

For now the thing to do is to find him. It is a very good thing that our staff is so very fond of Legolas, else they might refuse to go through with another search on principle. I could hardly blame them, and yet I hope they are willing to help me out for the second time within the week

I should never have doubted them, of course. When I alert Mistress Glasiel and Fimbrethil of the situation, neither of them so much as sighs or complains that we’ve just been through this. Instead they both go into action. Glasiel begins to search the house and Fimbrethil heads to the stables to see if Legolas’ horse is missing. Glasiel knows her kitchens so well that it is only minutes before she informs me that food items and one wine skin is missing from the pantry. Well there is some consolation in that, that he thought at least that far before tearing off into the night, though it worries me more since it proves that he intends to go further than just New Imladris, which was my first thought, though thinking of that now I realize that would be unlikely since he surely knows how poorly that would work out for him. It is highly unlikely that Lord Elrond or Lord Erestor would accept any excuse for that sort of unexpected call.

As Glasiel checks the laundry and some of the unused rooms, I head into the study where I find a place just below one of the floor length windows where a pile of snow has blown in and halfway melted onto the floor. No fire has been built in this room so that proves that no one has been in here and even if they had been it is unlikely that they opened a window in this sort of weather. That means that I have found his exit route. I call to Mistress Glasiel that she can stop looking now that we know he is no longer in the house as I had hoped.

I meet her just as she is reentering the kitchen where Aerlinn and Canthui are already gathered. At the same moment the doors open and Master Fimbrethil enters followed by Master Forodren, who has been out tending to Tàras’ horse and Hwiniol and Gaearon who have taken over his other duties while he did so.

“His horse is still in the stable,” Forodren informs me, “So he can’t have gotten far.”

This is true enough, but that doesn’t mean he will be easy to find if he doesn’t wish to be found, so I do not feel a great deal better about that news. When I look around I realize that all eyes are on me waiting for me to give them an assignment. I am more than a little touched that they are all so willing to be of assistance since they all have good reason to be fed up with the two of us by now. Again I feel regret at having let this situation get so out of hand and so I tell them, apologizing for distracting them from their evening plans once again.

“We are all happy to do what we can to help,” Glasiel assures me, “and at least some of us understand what you are going through having been in similar situations ourselves. Acting in the role of a parent is not for the faint of heart.”

If the entire household had not understood the unique relationship I have with my elfling, then there is no doubt about it now for there is nothing for me to do but nod in agreement with her statement. I am not sure how Legolas will feel about this being so baldly stated before everyone, but I suppose he should have thought of that a bit earlier. For now I look at the folks around me, very thankful that they are all willing to help, and begin making plans.

First I send Hwiniol back out to the stables to keep a watch for the lad. Just because he hasn’t come for his horse yet, doesn’t’ meant he doesn’t intend to. Next Fimbrethil, Forodren and Gaearon offer to begin walking the grounds in search of him. Aerlinn speaks up to say that she is willing to be part of the search party as well. I am about to agree to her doing so with the help of a storm lantern, but then I get a glimpse of Glasiel’s expression and see that she is not the least bit pleased with this idea. In fact Aerlinn, noticing this too, steps out of the way just in time to avoid having her ear tweaked by her scowling aunt. Deciding not to get between them, I make no comment on this, but just announce that I will be back as soon as I a get my fur lined cloak from my bedchamber. Gaearon immediately objects to that.

“Perhaps you should wait here in case he comes back, Lord Gimli.”

“And why would I do that?”

Gaearon looks a little uncomfortable, but he continues on with his suggestion.

“Well it is very cold outside,” he begins.

“Which is why I am going to fetch my cloak,” I tell him, baffled as to what he is trying to get at.

“There are three of us to search already,” he hurries to explain himself, “and, you are a mortal…”

“And?” I frown, beginning to suspect what he is hinting at.

“And, well…you’re not exactly…”

“Not exactly a spring chicken?” I guess. Gaearon cringes a little at my words but nods anyway albeit a bit hesitantly.

I often forget that the folks here are not at all familiar with the strength and endurance of the dwarves and it dawns on me that the lad is speaking out of concern, so I do not allow myself to become offended.

“I am not nearly as fragile as ye might think, young elf,” I wink and then turn back to my original task but just as I am about to exit the kitchen I am interrupted again by another hindrance in the form of our young guest who I had not expected to see again until morning. Evidently all the commotion awakened him and he has obviously been standing close enough to get wind of what is going on as well, for he immediately pledges his assistance.

“Lord Legolas braved the storm to search for me, so it would be wrong of me to stay back when he needs assistance,” he firmly states, but I have had just about enough of these unmanageable elflings not being where they are meant to be. It is enough to drive an old dwarf to drink. Were young dwarves so difficult to deal with? For the life of me I cannot recall, but one thing I do know is they were not quite as easy to haul back to where they were supposed to be. This one should be no trouble at all and he is about to change status from guest to family member, for what I do next is no way to treat a guest.

I grasp him by the arm and point a finger in his face.

“Ye’re pushing your luck, Elfling,” I growl and then tug him forward so that he falls over my shoulder with a yelp. Ignoring his protests I cart him back to the guest chamber and deposit him on the leaf bed with a warning to stay put once and for all. Mistress Glasiel and Canthui enter closely behind me to help settle him again, while I hurry off to my own bedchamber to fetch my cloak and winter gear.

When I open the door I gasp at the sight that greets me. Leaning against my wall is a familiar bow and quiver. A rumpled cloak and a pair of soaked boots sit in a puddle under my window next to a pack and wineskin. It is so unexpected that I do not realize at first exactly what it is that I am seeing, but then my eyes scan the room and I see a lump under the spread on my bed and when I look closer long golden hair spilling out over the top of it.

What exactly does this mean?

Confusion floods through me followed quickly by relief. I can hardly believe my elfling is safe in my own bed and not struggling out in the storm in the middle of the night. It is such a shocking revelation that I feel almost lightheaded at first and am unsure of what to do, but I rally quickly and step back into the corridor to inform Glasiel of what has occurred and tell her to let the others know that the search is off.

Next I cross the floor of my bedchamber and sit on the edge of my own bed. How he can sleep while the rest of the house has been turned upside down I do not know, but he is obviously in a deep slumber. My only guess is that his recovery from the sea longing has left him with a need for more rest than usual. Lord Elrond warned us that that would be the case and it seems that he was right.

I am tempted to wake him with a flick to his pointed ear or a sharp tug on his braid, but he looks so peaceful and deceptively innocent sleeping here that instead I reach out and gently stroke his cheek with one finger. He takes a while to blink into wakefulness and even when he does it is a moment or two before I see recognition in his eyes. Once he recalls what is going on, he sits up and throws both arms around my neck, releasing a long quavering breath as he does so. The thundering scold that was on the tip of my tongue melts away at this gesture, and instead I pull him close against me.

“We need to talk about house plans again, Lamb,” I tell him with a sigh. He pulls back and searches my face, obviously confused.

“We’ve talked about it before, but evidently I wasn’t clear enough,” I say and begin to explain, “There is a difference between windows and doors…”

 

xxxxx

I had not intended to fall asleep, but like so many things in my life my good intentions rarely seem to work out as I want them to.  
I spent over an hour sitting in the wood shed, waiting for an opportunity to get to the stables and as I sat I began to question what I was about to do. It dawned on me that I was not leaving to make a point but that I was running away like a child who doesn’t like what is happening around them or feels unfairly treated for some reason and who decides to run off to punish their parents or carers.

Was that what I was doing? The longer I sat there the clearer it became that I was and while I was hurt and confused by the way Gimli was behaving I was unlikely to make things better by making off into a snowy night.

Of course I then had to find a way back into the house without being seen. I had almost made it back to my bedchamber when I heard Fimbrethil’s voice calling to Canthui to make up the fire in there. So I dodged into Gimli’s room instead intending only to wait there until the coast was clear, but the warmth of the room after being out for so long made me drowsy, so I shed my wet cloak and boots and slipped under the coverlet to try and warm up a little.

The pillows and covers seemed to retain a little of Gimli’s scent, that mixture of pipe weed, tooled leather and Lindon wood and they offered me some comfort in the absence of Gimli himself and I obviously drifted off into sleep. I find myself being woken by my dwarf and I am so happy to see him that I throw my arms around his neck only just stopping myself from breaking into sobs at having him with me again.

I can see he is a little surprised by my actions but he holds me close as he tells me

“We need to talk about house plans again, Lamb,”

I must look thoroughly confused for he adds “We’ve talked about it before, but evidently I wasn’t clear enough. There is a difference between windows and doors…”

“I did not use the windows Gimli I swear.” It is suddenly very important to me that he knows I did not break my word to him.

“Oh?”

He clearly does not believe me so I tell him that I went out through the study door and came back in via the solid door that cuts off the west wing from the rest of the building.

“And I know you call the glass doors, windows Gimli but they are meant to be used as doors so I did not really break my word, did I?”

“Aye well we will not argue over that for now. I am glad to think ye recalled your promise to me. That is good.” He nods, “Although why ye felt the need to go out at all is beyond me, and what were ye intending to do with that food and wine?” he gestures to where the satchel and wine skin are sitting, “have an alfresco picnic in the snow?”

I recognise sarcasm when I hear it, even if I have no good answer to it. I am about to try and come up with some sort of excuse when Gimli cuts me off by growling “Never mind, that for now. What I really need to know is why ye were not where you were supposed to be?”

I want to answer truthfully, I really do. but how do I explain how I was feeling? As Gimli frowns at me I find myself crying out “You didn’t come! I waited and waited and then I remembered that you had told me to go, so I thought I would.”

I see I have surprised him for he looks startled, “you really thought I wanted you to leave? Eh, lad, how could you believe such a thing of me?”

Well no I did not believe it and though the temptation to say ‘yes’ is strong I cannot bring myself to make Gimli feel guiltier than he already does.

So instead I try to explain my fears and foolishness for such it appears now, that I am safe in Gimli’s arms. “I … I waited for hours and hours and still you didn’t come. I … I don’t like waiting … you never make me wait that long and I thought … I thought you had forgotten about me and didn’t care about me anymore.”

“Not care? Oh Lamb, what can I tell ye? I did not mean to make you wait so long. I went down to the sitting room when I had finished with Tàras. I wanted to calm myself. Ye know I do not like to deal with you when I am angry.”

I nod for I know it is true. Gimli has always been careful to ensure should he have to discipline me that he is calm and in control, that he has let go of his anger and frustration, and I am truly grateful for that but I still do not see why it took so long for Gimli to calm himself. Was I so much in error?

“But you took so long.”

“Aye, for the simple reason that I fell asleep.”

I am so surprised by this confession I pull out of Gimli’s embrace and stare at him. I see he is looking more than a little embarrassed.

“You fell asleep?”

He pats my knee, “I didn’a mean to do so, but the last few days of excitement caught up with me I suppose for I fell asleep and I slept for over three hours and even then I was prevented of coming to you because Tàras was intent on leaving us and ye know that I could not countenance that. He is not well enough.”

I feel my lips purse at the mention of Tàras, yet I cannot deny that as a host Gimli would have to place Tàras’ needs above his or my own.

“I know,” I say, “I saw you with him.” I falter, “and it seemed to me to prove that you were more interested in his welfare than mine. You held him in your arms.”

“I did, Lad. He needed comfort for he was in pain, and very unhappy.”

I want to say that I was unhappy too but I do not for I know it sounds childish.

Gimli seems to understand though for he says, “I’m sorry ye had to wait Lamb. It wasn’t done deliberately. I didn’t intend to fall asleep. It just happened, just as ye fell asleep in here while the rest of the household were in uproar trying to find ye again.” He adds giving me a censorious look.

I blush at that for I know I have caused everyone a great deal of trouble in these last few days and I then feel even worse when he says that even Tàras tried to get involved in the search for me.

“Well enough of that. Tell me instead what ye were thinking going off into the night like you did? When did running away ever solve anything? That is what ye were planning to do I take it?”

That is something that I suddenly find I do not want to answer but one swift glance up into my guardian’s face is enough to tell me I have no choice but to reply.

“Yes”

“Because I had made you wait?”

I shrug, and then knowing he does not like this sort of silent response, add, “Partly because of that.”

“But not entirely?” He presses

“No, it seems silly now, foolish but …” I look up at him through my eyelashes and see he is watching me fondly, so I feel emboldened to tell him what really caused my attempted departure. “I have been so lonely these last few days Elvellon. You have been busy with Gaearon and then Tàras came and you seemed so happy to see him and yet you didn’t seem to want me around. I know I should know better but it appeared to me as if I was no longer important to you and when you did not even come to…to… ‘deal’ with me I felt abandoned and seeing you with Tàras well it seemed to confirm all my concerns were correct so I decided to leave.”

Gimli shakes his head at me and I add hurriedly, “I am sorry. I realize now it was a stupid thing to have done.”

“Very foolish,” he agrees, “but perhaps understandable. Why did ye not speak to me about how you were feeling.”

It is my turn to shake my head, “I do not know. I just became more and more resentful and angry and … then Tàras got hurt because of me and I felt terrible but you still didn’t come. I didn’t know what else to do. I thought at least this way I would get your attention.”

“Well ye certainly succeeded there, Lad. That’s for sure.”

 

I see and hear more in those words than is at first obvious and I know on one level or another I will be called upon to answer for my conduct sooner or later. For my own sake I hope in a purely selfish way that it is sooner. I have waited long enough as it is.

I take another look at Gimli and can see that he is wondering how soon it will be before I accept that to move forward I will need to atone for my conduct.

“I am ready now. I know it is needful and that I am deserving of your own inimitable ‘care’.”

Gimli snorts but does not demur. Rather he twists in that way of his that I still do not fully understand and I suddenly find myself not sitting in his bed but over his knee. How he manages such a maneuver I do not know. I only know it is very effective. I do not squirm or object as he pulls down my leggings. Instead I take a deep breath in the vain hope that what is to come will not be as painful as I expect it to be.

I suppose I should rejoice in the fact that I can still try and pretend that a paddling will not hurt too much. Perhaps it is the triumph of hope over experience. Whatever, the reality is that when a dwarf, even one who cares for you a great deal-perhaps because he cares for you a great- deal takes his hand to your backside it is going to throb and sting and you are going to regret ever having accepted that this was necessary.

And despite all of that as my punishment comes to an end and I hide my face in his shoulder, I feel better, relieved, forgiven. The pain in my rear end is uncomfortable but not unbearable and I know in an intensely personal fashion that Gimli cares for me as much as he has ever done. No matter what my stupid thoughts might have been, what stupid misinterpretations I may have placed on Gimli’s actions I am now reassured he loves me and I am important to him and as Gimli tucks the covers around me and bids me sleep I know I can do so with a clear conscience and a relieved mind.

 

 

Xxxxxx

“It seems silly now, foolish, but,” He looks up at me hopefully and I try to offer an encouraging smile, for I know there is a delicate balance here that will make the difference between hearing a truthful answer or a fabricated excuse. If he thinks that I am very angry or worse than that, amused, he is likely to become defensive or refuse to talk at all. As it is he can see that I am truly interested in finding out what has gotten into him that made him feel that he needed to act as he did. I am not here to judge, but just to listen for I know there is something driving his actions.

It isn’t just his unapproved disappearance either but the whole business with his uncharacteristic rudeness to Tàras for while I know he may not be the lad’s dearest friend, it is not like him to act like such an unmitigated brat.

As he begins to describe his feelings of abandonment and confusion at my holding him at arms length over the last week or so I am flooded with guilt. My intentions of course were good. I only wanted to keep my gifts to him a surprise, but I can see how he would come to the conclusion that I no longer wanted him by my side. I’ve certainly made it clear enough by refusing his requests to spend time with me and hurrying him off every morning so I could spend my days with Gaearon in the forge or my new workroom. The arrival of our unexpected guest and my pleasure in seeing him again was just what was needed to confirm Legolas’ suspicions that he was losing first place in my affections.

Any residual anger that might have been lurking dissipates with this realization. Yes it is true he should have known better and if he did not, I have told him time and again that he should just tell me what is on his mind rather than stewing over things. I suppose it shows some progress that he returned to the house after thinking things over rather than storming off into the night, as had been his original plan. I still hold out hope that he will learn to come to me with worries rather than letting them grow to gargantuan proportions.

And yet no matter how I look at things the plain truth is this is my own fault. I did not intend it to happen as it has, but I knew he was unhappy and was acting out of character. If something is wrong I am supposed to fix it and this time I failed to do so. Good intentions aside, I am the one who sent him away without explanation. I am the one who locked him out of my workroom. I am the one who fell asleep when he desperately needed my attention. His next words make it seem like he is almost reading my thoughts.

“I thought at least this way I could get your attention.”

I feel so sorry for how things have turned out, that I am inclined to just take him in my arms again and tell him that all is forgiven and we need not speak of it again. It would ease my own guilt to do so, and yet I know that would not be in his best interest even if it would be the easiest thing in the world to do right now. Very likely he would see that as just one more example of my lack of care and would be left feeling bereft and guiltier than ever so as much as I would like to just forget the whole thing, I know I must not do so.  
Having another person placed in your charge is a weighty responsibility and the act of physical discipline a very intimate thing that can only be done properly when both parties have complete trust in one another. He must always be able to trust me to do what needs to be done at the proper time and to do it in a way that is helpful and not hurtful or damaging in any way. He should come away from it feeling uncomfortable perhaps, but cared for and relieved. If he is left feeling resentful or hurt afterwards then that means I have done something wrong. The same would be true if I were to refuse to take care of that particular need as well. Refusing to call him to account when we both know very well it is needed would only make things worse than they already are. Of course it will be better if he realizes that himself before we get started rather than having me have to point it out.

It only takes him a moment or two to do so.

“I am ready now,” he tells me. “ I know it is needful and that I am deserving of your own inimitable ‘care’

I cannot help chuckling at his funny way of saying what he needs, but once it is said I do not hesitate to comply. This has drug out for far too long already.

He tries very hard to cooperate fully, but it takes more than good intentions to be completely still when your very vulnerable backside is being systematically lambasted by a heavy dwarven hand. I understand that and do not hold it against him when he cries out occasionally and tries to move out of the way toward the end. I only tighten my grip on his waist and carry on for just a moment more to prove that I am determined to finish this task with the thoroughness it deserves.

After that I allow him to process the pain for a moment and decide for himself if he would like to avail himself of my proffered comfort or to go off and collect his emotions on his own. As always I am ridiculously pleased that he chooses to throw himself into my arms and bury his face in my neck. One thing about my elf, is he never does hold a grudge over these things even though I am mostly always very thorough in my actions.

We sit together for a spell not saying a word. The only sounds to be heard are the crackling of the fire, my soft shushing and an occasional sniffle or shaky breath from my elfling. It may sound strange to others, but it is intimate moments like this that make me appreciate the very special bond we share. Right now in this minute, I know there is no possible way he can feel that he is being replaced in my affections

Very soon he becomes very relaxed in my arms and I realize it is time to put an end to this dreadful day. I help him back under my coverlet, not even suggesting that he move back to his own bed for perhaps we both need the extra closeness tonight. Sleep comes very swiftly for Legolas, but my unplanned afternoon nap means I am unable to step into the path of dreams right away.

 

Fortunately for me a full wineskin still sits under my window along with a pack containing bread, fruit and cheese along with cold chicken leftover from the evening meal that we never got around to eating.

I help myself to the food and wine as I puzzle out what I must do about the secrets I’ve been keeping. Obviously trying not to let the cat out of the bag so to speak has lead to a lot of unnecessary pain and suffering, but on the other hand I am so very close! Legolas’ begetting day is the day after tomorrow. I need only to make it through one more day before everything will be revealed. If I am very careful, I should be able to keep my secret in tact, though I am unsure how I am going to explain that I still need to spend a few more hours locked away in my new workroom and that I’ve promised Gaearon that I will show him how to finish the project we’ve been working on. The best I can come up with for now is to just be cheerful, work fast, and hope for the best.

With that very dubious plan in place I crawl under my coverlet and give my charge a little shove to get him to move over. For someone who is no bigger around than a broomstick, he certainly manages to take up a lot of space. He seems all long limbs and hair as I attempt to maneuver him over to the far side of my bed, but I finally achieve it and let the last vestiges of this difficult day slip away as I drift into sleep.

I am awakened when a lanky arm is flung across my chest. I reach up to pat his hand and am about to speak when I realize he is not actually awake yet. Well yesterday was a long exhausting day so its no wonder. I move out from under his arm, placing it carefully over a pillow instead and then build up the fire before going about getting prepared for the day. By the time I have returned and begun heating water for tea, he has started to stir and by the time I have poured the first cup he is stretching and blinking into wakefulness. I can see him taking in the surroundings and trying to orient himself enough to remember why he is in my bed instead of his own and I can tell the moment when he finally does so for he scans the room for me and offers me a bright albeit somewhat sheepish smile.

I mention nothing about last night, but just place the warm cup in his hand and kiss the top of his head in greeting. All seems to be well between us, though he does frown slightly when I mention that I have already scheduled working with Gaearon in the workroom this morning, which means he will once again have to be in charge of our guest.

“Dinna look like that, Lamb. I’ll be finished before mid day,” I tell him. “And there is nothing to be jealous of either. I may enjoy the Lad’s company at times but there’s no one I’d let crowd me out of my own bed but you. Ye’re as restless as a willow in a windstorm when ye sleep.”

“Sorry Elvellon. I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he smiles.

“No problem at all, Lad,” I say patting his cheek, “now ye must be getting on or we will have a problem. Mistress Glasiel will have first meal ready before long and I’ll be in her black books for keeps if I don’t have ye down there in time, especially after neither of us showed for dinner yesterday evening.”

He pulls the covers over his head and groans at the idea of having to face Mistress Glasiel and the others after last night’s debacle, but I cheerfully pull them off again and apply a light swat to the seat of his leggings to get him moving. When it comes to life’s little lessons there is no better teacher than having to clean up your own mess.


	5. Chapter 5

I hurry to complete my ablutions and to dress, for Gimli is correct. It would not do to be late for fist meal but even while I go through the necessary activities I am already dreading coming face to face with the members of my new household.

It is not only that I have let them down by my childish actions but also the fact that they will be all too aware now of the true situation between Gimli and me. It is of little use for me to pretend otherwise. They must now know that Gimli is far more to me than a ‘friend’. Of course it may be that they have always known that the unique relationship between this particular dwarf and elf is more akin to parent and child than any thing else.

From the outside perhaps our bond may seem odd for it is scarcely commonplace for an elven prince to be placed into the care of a member of the dwarven race. Yet those who knew us back in Middle Earth who knew of our history, knew of the unique relationship, the exceptional fellowship that was formed amongst those of us who undertook the quest to Mount Doom would have been unsurprised that such a kinship would have been formed between us or that my own parent would have freely chosen to give me into the custody of Gimli son of Gloin when it came to the time for me to sail and he was unable to give me his own company.

Our own small household comes from a variety of backgrounds some more familiar with the context behind Gimli and my relationship than others. Or at least they were less familiar, now they would have to be completely bone headed not to guess at the true situation that pertains between us and I find myself blushing at the mere thought that everyone who is in my present employ now likely realizes that their so called ‘lord’ is actually regularly held to account by his dwarven minder.

This fact is enough to make me hesitate before entering the kitchen ahead of Gimli, but I have never been accounted a coward and so I draw in a deep breath and push open the door and find that everyone is already assembled for first meal save Tàras who is no doubt eating breakfast in his bedchamber. They all stand and wish Gimli and me a good morning and generally seem happy to see me. Well everyone save Mistress Glasiel who frowns as I slip into my seat and mutters to herself that she hopes good food will not go to waste today.

I am about to speak when I see Forodren shaking his head at me and offering me some freshly baked bread. Hwiniol then comments on the weather and Aerlinn begins to tell me of how the cat Tàras rescued is doing this morning.

I am fortunate indeed in my household it seems, for they are all doing their best to protect me from Mistress Glasiel’s wrath. Not that I deserve to be protected. I know very well that I do not but I cannot help but be grateful.

Gimli who is sitting conversing with Fimbrethil is doing his best to stay out of the situation. He is neither offering support nor pointing the finger but I know he is hoping I will take the opportunity to apologize to our housekeeper.

I am attempting to build up my courage to do so when there is a welcome interruption in the form of the cat who having forsaken her basket by the fire for more important duties in the dairy, returns to the kitchen with a mouse clamped between her jaws. Fortunately it is dead and she lays it at Glasiel’s feet as an offering and an example of her skill.

“Well now, “Glasiel is unfazed by the unexpected gift. Rather she seems somewhat pleased by it, “it seems that the newest member of our household is proving her worth. Master Tàras did well to bring her back with him. Such kindness he showed. I do not like to think what would have happened to her left out in that weather all alone and unwanted.”

“Lord Legolas also helped to bring her home,” Aerlinn reminds her aunt and I rather wish she hadn’t for it can only bring up another grievance as far as Glasiel is concerned that had it not been for me Tàras would not have been out in the storm.

I duck my head and await the breaking of this new storm over my deserving head. Instead I hear Glasiel say “Indeed very true. Our young lord has a kind heart.”

I look up and see she is regarding me not unkindly and I have the presence of mind to take this unexpected opportunity to say what is needful.

“Any thanks should go to Tàras. I am afraid I only gave you all additional trouble with my conduct. First I encouraged a guest to go out when I knew the weather would deteriorate, and then my foolish decision to disappear for a while yesterday led to you all having to spend time searching for me in the dark and the cold.” I look around the table and make sure I have made eye contact with everyone present before finishing with “I owe you all an apology. My conduct over the last few days has fallen far below what you should expect. I am very sorry for all the trouble I have caused and can only hope you will find it in yourselves to eventually forgive me.”

Gimli nods approval for my words and pats my hand, and then I dare to look back at Mistress Glasiel who I know is the one who everyone is waiting to react.

“There is nothing to forgive Lord Legolas. We are all just relieved to see you and Tàras safe. Mind I did not approve of your hiding from Lord Gimli as you did, such worry as you caused him.”

I feel my ears turning red at this scolding but cannot deny the truth of her words.

“I have already made my apologies to Gimli.” I assure her.

“That is good to know for a kinder and more caring friend you will not find anywhere in these lands I deem. Master Frodo told me that Lord Gimli was a very special individual with a heart as large as the whole of Arda and I see now he did not exaggerate. We are all very fortunate to have him here with us.”

“We are indeed,” I answer happy to know how much Gimli is appreciated by everyone, “and I more than any other and while I may not always show it, I do know I am fortunate to have him as my guardian during the last years of my minority and I hope for many years beyond that as well.”

I look over at Gimli who is looking a little embarrassed at all this talk. He harrumphs in that unique way of his and grumbles, “enough of all this prattle. We all have things to be doing this morning I am sure. Come lad, I thought we would go up and see how young Tàras is doing today.”

He heads for the doorway as he speaks and I hurry to catch him up, relieved to be away from the kitchen and to have done with the need for apologies… well all save the one to Tàras.

“That was well done Lamb.”

It is my turn to be embarrassed but I am thankful for the praise.

“Thank you. I hope Tàras will be as ready to accept my apologies for he is the one quite literally hurt by me.”

“I think you will find he will be as happy to make up as everyone else. There is little point in holding grudges. We should know that better than most.”  
He pushes open the bedchamber door and announces, “good morning young Tàras. How is that knee this morning?”

I follow Gimli into the room and keep out of the way as he checks over the injury for himself and pronounces himself happy with its progress.

Tàras looks hopeful at this announcement and immediately asks if he can now get up, I admire his optimism. If he thinks mother hen Gimli will allow him out of that bed until all the swelling has gone he is in for a rude awakening as he soon finds out. After a brief and fairly one sided argument, Tàras sees sense and surrenders to the inevitable and Gimli goes off to find some salve to help take away the worst of the bruising saying as he departs that I can keep Tàras company while he is away.

An awkward silence descends as soon as the door closes behind him and I know it is up to me to break it.

“I am so sorry”

“I want to apologize”

We both speak up at the same time and then stop.

“There is no need for you to apologize,” I tell Tàras, speaking up quickly before he can try again. “My manners towards you have been appalling and you would not be in such a mess as you are now if it had not been for me. I am really sorry. Is there any possibility that we can begin again as of now?”

“I would like that,” he answers and then we fall silent again.

Fortunately Gimli returns and chuckles at us as we both try to think of something to say to each other.

“Now I would have thought the pair of ye would be chattering away like magpies. Ye have apologized?”

“Yes”

“Oh indeed Lord Gimli”

We both speak at the same time again and then laugh a little sheepishly as Gimli rolls his eyes at us.

“Well then I can leave ye two to keep each other entertained then while I go off and work with Gaearon. Tàras ye have long wanted to know more about Arda. Here is the perfect opportunity.”

And he is gone.

But he has in his own inimitable fashion broken the ice between us and before long we are chatting quite amicably and when Canthui brings up some refreshments and asks if we have come up with a name for the cat yet we spend some time coming up with a suitable name and have a great deal of fun while doing it; Mista (stray), Alagos (storm), Nimin (snowdrop) and Rhîw (winter) . Eventually we decide upon Mista.

By the time the noon meal comes round Tàras and I have found we have far more in common than we thought and I find he has taken the time since the summer to research as much as possible about Arda in the Third Age and is really keen to know more. He is fascinated by the different races and the heroes he has read about and asks question after question and I decide to take my meal with him rather than in the kitchen and I am surprised when Gimli appears and announces it is time for me to dress for dinner and does Tàras feel up to joining us if I help him down the stairs.

I had not looked forward to the day and yet in the end I find I have thoroughly enjoyed it. It was good to spend time with an elf around my own age.

 

Xxxx  
I creep quietly through the dressing room that adjoins my bedchamber with my friend’s and softly open the door so as not to wake him yet. Though it is still dark outside, I am already dressed for going out of doors in the frigid weather. My fur-lined cloak has a pair of thick wool gloves in one pocket and a long golden silk ribbon in the other in preparation for this special day.

As I look down at my sleeping charge by the moonlight that floods in through the window, I fondly recall his first begetting day that we celebrated together so many years ago back in Erebor. Though that was over one hundred years ago, he still looks just as he did back then; hair still shining gold, skin still soft and smooth, and even though he has lived through many hardships, eyes still clear and innocent. He still remains a youth, but even when he does reach full maturity and even very old age, he will likely look little different than he does right now. I briefly regret the fact that I will never know the elleth he may marry or the children he may sire, at least not until the remaking of the world, but this is not a time for regrets, so I quickly push them aside and rejoice in the fact that he is still able to retain some small vestiges of childhood in spite of everything he has seen and experienced and in spite of the fact that his occasional bouts of immaturity cause me a little bother now and then as in the last couple of weeks.

Of course it is very different for myself, for when I look in the glass, my own reflection shows black eyes set in a deeply lined face and hair and beard that have grown exceptionally long and snow white. Though my hands still retain their strength, they are gnarled and thin skinned and while I feel little different than I did on that day back in Erebor, I know I have grown quite old. I am older now than Lord Gloin was when he died and I know if it were not for the miracles of this blessed land my time in this world would be very short. The Valar have granted me quite a gift by promising me long life and therefore many years yet to spend with my elfling. I expect they will know when he will be strong enough to endure without me and when it is time to move on to the next world.

For now I must focus on making every moment count and that means making this day as memorable as I can. That first begetting day we spent together was when I learned of the tradition Legolas had with his father to rise early and greet the dawn every year on that special day and I had been determined to do the same while he was with me. The sun rising over the ice-covered mountain was spectacular that day, and I fleetingly wonder if he will remember it as well as I do. I hope today will be just as memorable.

Almost I loathe to disturb his rest, for there was a time not so long ago that sleep was hard to come by for him and whether he wants to admit it or not, he is still recovering his strength and will be for some months yet. On a normal day I would never do so, but this is not a normal day and I intend to make it as special as possible and that means beginning the day at dawn as per his usual tradition. With everything that has gone on over the last several days, I do not think he has remembered what day it is. Or perhaps he feels he is too close to adulthood to continue to mark it annually. Whatever the case he has not mentioned it.

I reach out and brush the loose hair back from his face and then lightly touch his cheek with one finger. He does not startle awake as he might have done years ago when times were more perilous, but instead just brushes at his face as if something tickles. I chuckle at this and try again, this time whispering his name as I do so.

“Legolas, wake up lad.”

This time he is startled and sits up quickly, suddenly wide-awake.

“What is amiss, Gimli?” he asks worriedly, and then after noticing how I am dress, “Where are you going?”

“Nothing is wrong, Lamb. Do not worry,” I assure him. “I am going outside for a walk, and I want ye to come with me.”

“You want to go for a walk in the middle of the night?” He asks incredulously.

“It is nearly dawn,” I tell him, but he does not look all that comforted by that information. He must think I’ve lost my mind.

“And you want to go for a walk right now? In the dark, in the middle of winter?” He looks decidedly troubled and I have to laugh at his expression. His thoughts are easy to read: Poor old dwarf has finally gone off his rocker. I reach out to pat his hand reassuringly.

“All is well, I promise. I have not gone crazy yet,” I tell him. “Ye trust me, do ye not?”

“Of course I do, Elvellon.”

“Then get up and come with me,” I instruct, “and dress warmly, for it is still very cold outside.”

He still does not look convinced that I have not gone off the deep end, but he does not say anything more, but merely shrugs and does as I have asked. It is only a few minutes until he is dressed and ready to go. He still eyes me skeptically, but only grabs his cloak from the hook on the door and follows me quietly through the house. It is so early even Mistress Glasiel has not made her way to the kitchen, though I expect it is only a matter of minutes until she appears. I decide against taking a lantern, for the moon is full and bright enough for us to see our way and very soon the sun will be up.

As we step outside I can see the only the shadows of the hills that surround our valley and the mountains that tower over them. I head off in the direction of one special hill, the one where we first stood and looked at the land that would be the location of our new home. Automatically Legolas turns that direction too without needing to wait to see where I will go, for it has been our habit to go to ‘our spot’ to look out over the land to admire its beauty and see all the progress that is being made on the house as it is being built. From there we watched as wains carried our belongings in as our friends put the final touches on our home just before we moved in.

From that particular location we can overlook the entire land and revel in the miracle of this blessing that has been given to us and give silent thanks for it as well. It is a very special place and one that I like to visit as often as I can. When the time comes I intend to tell Legolas that I wish to be buried there where perhaps I will still be able to see the comings and goings of the place, if such a thing is possible when one has passed beyond the veil. Of course today is not the day to mention that, for that would bring up unpleasant thoughts and today is a day for rejoicing, not sorrow.

For several minutes there isn’t a sound except the crunching of my heavy steps and his much lighter ones in the snow. The snow is so deep that it is difficult going and when we come to the base of the hill and begin to climb upwards, my elfling offers me his arm. I am grateful for the assistance, for while I am struggling, he of course has no problem traversing the snow. The sky is just beginning to turn gray as we reach the summit of the hill, arm in arm. It is then that Legolas breaks the silence.

“Why are we here, Elvellon?”

Instead of answering, I turn him around so that we are both facing the valley to see the sun beginning to peak out from behind the mountain tops. The first rays grace the land and warm light announces the coming of a new day. We continue to watch as the sky turns from the softest purple and pink to more vivid colors and we can begin to see the details of the valley below. There are leafless elm trees and dark green pines of many varieties, their branches heavy with snow. The lake at the head of the valley is frozen and snow covered and I can see where ice has formed over the rocks that jut out from the many streams that empty into it. Without us being able to pinpoint exactly when it happens, the dawn has turned to ordinary day. The whole world seems to be brilliant blue and sparkling white with occasional bits of black and green. I swell with pride when I see our little house and the outbuildings that surround it. It looks insignificant in the great expanse of the valley, but I expect a few years from now that will no longer be the case.

I turn to look at Legolas to see his reaction to the scene, and I can see he is as touched as I am.

“It is spectacular,” he comments, “thank you for bringing me here.”

He smiles at me and squeezes my shoulder, but it is still plain that he is confused as to why we are doing this. I thought he might have figured it out by now, but clearly he has not so now it is time to explain.

Instead of saying anything, I reach out to unfasten his cloak pushing it aside with one hand as I reach into my pocket with my other hand. Again I laugh at his stunned expression, but it changes to one of understanding as I pull the gold ribbon from my pocket.

“It is the dawn of your begetting day, silly child. Had ye forgotten?” I tie the ribbon firmly in place and then refasten his cloak for him.

“Until just this moment I had,” he admits. “I…I guess I had other things on my mind.”

“Of course ye had,” I tell him. “Spending all that time preparing a birthday surprise for me and working on that wonderful workroom.”

I place both hand on his head and offer a blessing for his future happiness and then pull him down to kiss his forehead. I am pleased when he tells me he does not need a translation of the Khuzdul words proving that he has studied the language to some purpose.

“Shall we go inside to see what else this day may bring?” I ask, and we begin the long trek back to the house. This time we chat as we walk together, laughing over the fact that we were planning surprises for one another at the same time, likely driving our staff to distraction with all the planning and conniving.

They do not seem to be too bothered, though when we enter into the kitchen to find everyone already gathered for first meal. Even young Tàras has joined us, though he is quick to assure me that Master Fimbrethil assisted him on the stairs.

The meal is a cheery one with all the correct foods for a begetting day celebration. Mistress Glasiel is very observant for she has prepared all of Legolas’ favorites and there isn’t a drop of porridge in sight. Everyone offers their best wishes and even our newest family member, who Legolas informs me should now be called Nimin, comes to join us by finding her way under the table and winding around everyone’s legs.

Afterwards we crowd into the sitting room and there are gifts to open from every member of the household. Legolas is especially impressed with the sleigh bells with their leaf design that Gaearon forged himself with my help. I can see he is wondering if he will get the chance to use them anytime soon after my adamant refusal to let him take the sleigh out earlier in the week.

Finally I give him the leaf shaped clip with the rare chrome tourmaline setting. He admires it, turning it in all directions to see every detail.

“So this is what you’ve been doing all week,” he says, more to himself than to me and again I feel just a twinge of guilt at the concern I caused him with my lack of attention. A bright smile and an impulsive hug assure me that I am forgiven and soon everyone heads off to care for their own duties leaving me alone with my elfling and our young guest. I turn to Tàras and wink, for I have already spoken to him last night about my plans.

“Now then, Youngling, I believe it is about time you made your way home,” I declare, “Ye’re folks will be missing ye by now to be sure.”

Legolas’ eyes widen in astonishment. Not for the first time today he looks at me as if I’ve suddenly grown two heads.

“But Gimli, he’s still limping! Surely you don’t wish him to ride home yet.”

“Of course I don’t. He isn’t fit for that yet. That’s why ye’ll be taking him home in the sleigh,” I explain. When he continues to stare at me unbelievingly, I add. “Right now, Elfling. Make haste.”

“All right,” he says hesitatingly, “If you are sure that is what you wish.”

“Do I not always mean what I say?” I answer, reaching into my belt pouch for the key to the shed and pressing it into his hand.

XXXX

 

Gimli woke me before dawn asking me to accompany him outside and despite my thinking there was something seriously amiss with his thinking I did so.

Now as we stand on the crown of the hill looking back at the part of the house that we are currently inhabiting and the marked out area for the rest of the building that we will continue working on in the spring, I feel happy to share this morning with my friend. After all if Gimli wishes to come out into the snow to greet the dawn who am I to say him nay? I am happy to accompany him. It is a small enough price to pay for his company and his care of me since we came to the undying lands and indeed the view is spectacular.

When I ask him why has he brought me here he turns me so I can look back into the valley.

Snow lies deep on the ground, covering the partially completed earthworks and making all seem pristine. The trees are garlanded with frost and thick icicles that the slight breeze moves so that they sparkle like diamonds. The light dances across the snow, chasing the morning sun as it begins to rise over the hillside.

It is truly beautiful and my mind is taken back to the many winter mornings I stood like this with my father waiting for the morning to make its presence known and for the dark of night to be banished once more.

It is beautiful and so I tell him and am surprised when he takes out a ribbon from his pocket and proceeds to tie it around my waist. The symbolism of the action is not lost on me and I stare down at it and my friend, knowing that I must be wearing the most foolish expression on my face.

“It is the dawn of your begetting day, silly child. Had ye forgotten?” He scolds mildly and I have to admit that until this moment I had.

He laughs at me and then offers me the traditional Khuzdul greeting for a birthday, pulling down my head so that he can kiss my brow.

Then he ushers me back down the hill so that the rest of our small household may wish me joy on this special day. I cannot quite believe I had forgotten my begetting day. After all it come so close to Gimli’s own birthday. But I suppose I was concentrating so hard on preparing for his day my own celebration slipped my mind.

While we talk and laugh on the way down the hill part of me is wondering how my father is marking this day. Never in all the many yeni I walked in Middle Earth did we not try to spend my begetting day together. Will he have gone out to meet the dawn as we always did? Somehow I know that he has. Maybe he is standing looking up at the sky even now and I pause and offer up a prayer to the Valar for his safekeeping and happiness and that someday we will be reunited. For now I offer my arm to Gimli as we plough through the snow or at least he does and I hope that somehow my Adar will know I am happy even though I miss him terribly.

After that there is a special break of fast to partake of, with all my favourite foods and the entire household and Tàras in attendance.  
There are gifts from everyone. I have to laugh at how the staff successfully kept our planning and plotting from each of us. It seems we have been extremely fortunate in those who care for us for they have shown they not only are good at their work but are happy to share in our lives and make them as comfortable and enjoyable as possible.

Gimli has made me the most wonderful leaf shaped pin, set with a tourmaline. It is exquisite and I now see what it is that has been filling his days lately. How foolish I feel now for my petty jealousy over his time with Gaearon. Gaearon has even made me a set of sleigh bells, which I hope I will one day be allowed to hear as they ring out as the sleigh that Gimli has repaired dashes over the snow.

I am still thinking of how I can persuade Gimli to let me have access to the sleigh sooner rather than later when he surprises me yet again by announcing that it is time Tàras was getting back home.

I am flabbergasted for Tàras is still limping and not really fit to ride even to New Imladris. Of course I should know better for, to my amazement, Gimli not only informs me that I am to make use of the sleigh but then presses the key to the shed into my hand.

Everyone comes out into the yard with me throwing on coats and cloaks as they do and I can see why when the doors are pulled back. Gimli has not just repaired the sleigh. He has transformed it. It is now a full-blown racing model I run a hand down the ornate wooden trim and admire the curved runners. I cannot help but imagine driving such a beautiful rig but even so I turn to Gimli for permission before I call for Hwiniol to harness up the horses.

“Will you come with us?”

Gimli shakes his head, “Nay the pair of ye will do better without me sitting behind ye muttering about how fast ye are going. Mind,” he adds with a mock scowl, “Ye are to take care, Elfling, and to be back here before the sun goes down else ye will feel the full force of my displeasure. Not to mention that of Mistress Glasiel who is planning a special dinner to commemorate your first begetting day here in the land of the elms.”

I promise I will be careful and return in plenty of time and soon Tàras and I are climbing up into the sleigh nu. But then I jump down again and cross to where Gimli is standing. I drop to my knees and take him into my embrace.

“Thank you Edwen Adar,” I whisper

 

 

 

Then before he can say any more I take up the reins and give the horses office to start. We set off at a sedate pace but as soon as we are heading up the hill we are traveling at a good speed and the sound of the sleigh bells rings out across the valley.

I leave Tàras at New Imladris and turn for the valley again. This time the seat next to me has more gifts to mark my begetting day. I know Tàras was a little nervous at facing up to the consequences of his unauthorized absence but before we left the stable yard Gimli entrusted me with letters to both Taras’ parents and to Master Edelharn telling them that in his opinion Tàras had suffered sufficiently and he would hope they would not feel the need to take the youngster further to task and I am certain they will take note of his wishes.

I turn back still reveling in driving this wonderful sleigh. I am not so foolish as to race it as yet. It would not do for me to crash it so soon after it has been gifted to me. Instead I drive at a good pace but one that keeps both it and me safe and soon I am pulling the team to a halt as we reach the top of the hill where Gimli and I stood to welcome in the dawn this morning.

It has been a wonderful day full of surprises and laughter. It is far more so than I deserved. The sun is just beginning to sink below the trees on the hills bathing them in a warm glow even though the air is bitterly cold. My eyes travel from the darkening sky to the house in the valley beneath me. Lights are twinkling in the windows. I can hear Hwiniol and Forodren calling the stock inside for the night.

From the light of the open kitchen door I see Aerlinn and Canthui flitting backwards and forwards as they finish their chores. I wonder why the door is open then catch a glimpse of a lithe figure stepping daintily across the yard. Mista has obviously completed her duties in the stable and is returning to her basket in the kitchen. She shakes a back leg to free it of snow as she enters the house carrying with her, her latest ‘mousy’ victim which she will no doubt lay at Mistress Glasiel’s feet thus ensuring her welcome.

I let my gaze move upwards the main windows of the dining room are ablaze with light and I can see Gimli standing watching for my return. I am a long way from Eryn Lasgalen and my father but here in the valley of the Elms my second father awaits my return and I feel as I give the horses their heads that I am really going home.


End file.
